


Curative Reconnection

by VampyricRose



Series: Mixed Tape [2]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Cock Cages, Dom/sub Play, F/M, Forced Orgasm, Heavy BDSM, Sexting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-28
Updated: 2020-11-02
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:53:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 71,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26689972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VampyricRose/pseuds/VampyricRose
Summary: Direct sequel to Drunk on a Plane (Chapter 5 of the Mixed Tape Series) - AU/All Human. Six months have passed since Spike and Buffy's encounter on the plane and after Spike gets over his fears, they finally reconnect. Spike's encouragement of Buffy's penchant for being a Domina leads them to come together in a scene of love, quips, lust, submission and shared healing.
Relationships: Spike/Buffy Summers
Series: Mixed Tape [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1942207
Comments: 1
Kudos: 15





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So I've been working on this one for a very very very long time. I realize that the last time I put out a chapter from Mixed Tape it was June. Alas, with life going on (My masters is still kicking my butt, but hey, done in two months!) I found the only time to write was scribbling it out during breaks at work.  
> Anyways, I didn't plan on making a separate sequel, but wanted to write a piece that really reflects my feelings (and love) for the art and love and trust that's involved in playing a scene like this.  
> I had originally thought I was going to just write another one shot chapter like how What if I Never Got Over You and For Your Entertainment were, but as I started writing, the muse carried me away and it turned into this. Probably about 5-7 chapters total, maybe less (As I tend to write long chapters).  
> While this particular WIP isn't named after a song like the rest of my work, I still apply the same style and have plenty of song lyrics (mostly punk) weaved in, which I'll note at the end of the chapter.  
> Any quotes taken from the show will also be included.  
> I do not own Buffy, Spike or anything related to Buffy the Vampire Slayer, that'll all Whedon. I just like to let Spike and Buffy play nice, (or sometimes not so nice)
> 
> In the first couple chapters (and some of the later ones) Spike and Buffy will be texting. I denote this with this format /Hey Buffy its me Spike, I didn't burn up like you thought. How're things?/  
> "Regular quotations like this denote regular talking, over the phone or in person"
> 
> Italics denote internal thought or the use of song lyrics. 
> 
> Without further ado.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reconnection

With a final hand truck load of boxes brought in from the moving truck outside, the rest of Spike’s possessions had finally reached their new home. Nearly 5,500 miles away, transported all the way from London, everything he owned was crowded into the foyer and nearby open rooms inside his modest mansion of a house in the suburbs of LA. He ran black lacquered fingers through his platinum blonde hair, heaving a long sigh of completion. His riotous curls long fallen out of the usual messy spikes he forced them in after hours of the task of solo moving everything from the moving van. He wiped the sweat from his brow, harsh California sun beating down on him, reminding him that his choice in all black may have been a bad idea.

It had been months since his return from his ‘honeymoon’ trip to Rio de Janeiro. Half a year had passed since his fated encounter with Buffy on that seemingly magical plane ride. In the time since then, everything had finally been settled with Drusilla. Thankfully since they had never been legally married he hadn’t been entitled to give the bitch anything. He navigated the splitting of their processions nearly on his own, making sure that Drusilla would be taken care of financially, but not giving her anything more than she deserved. He just couldn’t find it within himself to leave her completely high and dry, no matter what damaged she inflicted on him. Since then he hadn’t heard from her or Liam, not that he wanted to anyways.

The past few months had been busy. He had just recently finished up his latest novel, the very same one that he was working on when he met Buffy all those months ago. Sales were already through the roof. The newest thing in his life was the contract and script for the very first movie based on his original novel was finally complete and shooting was set to begin in just a couple weeks. Casting was still being worked out at the moment and already they had a great deal of talent pouring in.

His decision to make the move from Merry Old to the City of Angels was made over a few key reasons: some being very practical and the others being emotional. By being in LA he would be closer to the movie set and production efforts and he’d made it very clear to the director that he would be involved with every decision-making process regarding his film or he had reason to take his business elsewhere. In had not escaped his notice that the current trend in Hollywood did not put a favorable light in the conversion of print to film. It seemed that directors had a tendency to shirk the written value of the book itself in favor of attention-grabbing effects. Profit over substance. Whatever made the most money, even at the integrity of the media. Besides, there was plenty of fresh blood and production companies that were constantly hounding him for the right to be the ones to make this world phenomena if his current choice didn’t work out. He did not want his life’s work to be reduced to a string of cash cows for a bunch of suit type investors.

Being in LA also gave him the ability and presence to make many business connections, more so then when he was living in London, and put him in a better position to travel to the big-ticket cities of America where he had been spending most of his time anyways.

He also needed to get away.

Not that there was even much left for him across the pond. No family. Da had left or died a long bloody time ago, his only memory of him was sitting across a long dinner table and watching him puff on a cigar. His mum never talked about him much and he always figured there was a good reason for that. Mum had been gone for over two years now, her tuberculosis all but destroying her in the last couple months of her life. It was a hard and painful process, watching her slowly get worse and worse and not being able to jack shit about it.

After her death the only thing tying him to London was his agent, whom he already spent a majority of the time just talking to over mobile, and Drusilla. She’d torn him apart. Brought down his entire world. From the time he was made aware of her infidelity to that fateful day on the plane there was scarcely a day where he was sober. During that time he canceled a majority of his book signs and tours and instead locked himself away in the silence of a shoddy bachelor pad flat and drowned in a bottle. They were dark times indeed.

Everything changed when he had the pleasure of meeting Ms. Buffy Summers. There was something extraordinary about the girl. Her beauty was immeasurable, knowing no bounds. A golden sun goddess with tresses as delicate and fine as spun gold, eyes of regal emeralds and sun kissed skin that glittered in the light. Her body was lean and athletic, the result from working out, but still petite with all of the soft and graceful curves of a woman. A SoCo beauty that altogether defied the stereotypical airheaded beach babe by possessing intelligence and wisdom beyond her years and made her a pleasure to talk to. A woman, who like him, had a tremulous past filled with lies and death and nasty voices that whispered to her when she was alone in the dark.

What a coincidence that they both shared the grievances that they did. The death of a loved one, though he had never confirmed this, she had all but come out and said she’d lost someone close. If he had to guess it was most likely a parent, probably her mother as she seemed to have issues with trusting men. Her other grievance was a great betrayal of her heart, cast aside and forsaken by the person she had put her heart and soul and trust into. Her tin soldier, unable to grapple with not being the center of her attention while Buffy was dealing with at the time, had given her a tough decision. A choice between two parts of her heart. For as cruel as Drusilla’s infidelity had been and as terrible as the pain that it caused him to walk in and discover that her love for him had whittled away for months, it seemed pale in comparison to what Buffy had gone through.

Drusilla had not given him a choice, not one he was going to continue to make anyways. She had taken that away from him and somehow that made it easier. He didn’t have to put precious thought towards his next actions, he merely had to accept what was happening and coast in the aftermath. Buffy though. Buffy not only had to deal with the pain and loss of the man she had been with for the past few years but had to undergo the torment involved with answering to the git’s ultimatum. How he had managed to hold onto a beauty like her for so long was beyond him, especially after Buffy had spilled his less than stellar record when it came to her sexual pleasure.

And that…that was a whole other layer as to what made Buffy Summers a bloody sun goddess.

The mere thought of her was enough to make him hard as nails and give him a stiffy that only seemed to go down when he spent a good long while rubbing one out. Not that he had a problem with that. Fueled by the time they spent together on the plane and his own wild and extremely graphic imagination, he’d cum harder than he ever had in his entire life. The only notable exception being the actual time he spent with her on the plane. His senses went into overdrive every time she crossed his mind. How she tasted; rich and tangy, savory and sweet, like finely aged wine. Like ripe citrus in the peak of season, fragrant and bursting. How she smelled; like vanilla and oranges and that fakey coconut smell of suntan lotion. The softness of her suntanned skin, perfectly tan and salty, stretched over such perfectly sculpted tight muscles. The sight of her, like a ray of pure sunshine, warm and inviting.

The way her lips pulled into a smile when she talked about anything that pleasured her. The looks she had given him as she’d taken control. The strength of a girl who’d been dealt a bad hand of cards but persevered nonetheless. A girl who had him damn near on his knees with just a few words. The ability to make him cum with even fewer. Her attention to detail and natural ability to take exactly what he needed, twist him, make his eyes roll into the back of his head. Knowing that at the same time it would bring her off just as hard. That she needed that control, reveled in it. That seeing him submit to her had made her feel something she had never felt before.

He wondered how she had been getting along these past few months. If there was a bloke in her life who let her be what she needed because she deserved nothing less. Which brought him to his conundrum.

He fiddled with the slip of paper. Turning and flipping it, unable to make himself sit still. One side was blank, empty, but with no risk of the crushing feelings that came with rejection. The other….her number. An invitation to become something more than just a one-time shag in an airplane loo. The ability to make a place for himself within her world, even a small one. Or. Another chance at heartbreak, a blow to his already bruised ego, a crumbling of his already brittle character. For his curse was his unwavering love, his devotion to those in his life he cared about. He knew, once he’d gotten to know Buffy that she was the kind of women that he could fall in love with, rather easily he might add.

What they had shared that night was something special, something not of this world but that surpassed the mortal plane which they were bound to. When he had been with her, buried deep inside her, she had felt like home.

“Like Schrödinger’s bloody cat innit?” He mumbled to himself, tapping his cig to ash it while turning the paper over again until he was looking at the blank side. “Dead?” Then flipping it to her number “Or Alive?” He mused, taking a drag. He twirled it again and again and again before hastily shoving it in his duster pocket with a snarl. No use contemplating the possible future of his life while he was roasting to death out in the Cali sun. He took another deep drag of his fag before ashing it against the thick soles of his Doc Martins. Turning on his heel he made haste into the air-conditioned sanctuary that was his home.

In six months he hadn’t had the stones to text her. Efforts had been made, and he truly had been trying to work up the confidence to do so, but every time he tried he chickened out. An unsent draft of the text he’d composed so long ago sat in the memory of his phone, but he couldn’t find it within himself to hit the bleedin send button, what he had done instead was try and pass the time with other women.

They were never anything serious, just women to help pass the time during the day and keep his bed warm at night. He was upfront with them from the start, that nothing could come of their borrow time together. He wasn’t looking for a long-term commitment. But the way he figured it; it was a win-win scenario for both parties. They got whatever they wanted; clothes, fancy meals, jewelry. It didn’t matter to him because he was happy to spend the money on them. In return he got companionship. A relief from the crushing feelings of loneliness that clung to him like a shadow. He spent long hours of both night and day buried between the thighs of these women, pouring his feelings of inadequacy and desolation out through the use of his cock and tongue. For during the times of their pleasure, he could forget about the darkness that crept up around him.

Their moans and sighs and screams were his torch in the black of night. When they came, he felt for a few seconds that he was whole, rather than a broken puzzle in which so many of the pieces were lost. To maintain his shield, the one that stood stalwart against his autophobia, he would spend all night bringing them off again and again and again with no need for his own release. Because once that happened, once he was spent, everything came back to him.

In the time between partners, he was not ashamed to call upon one who enjoyed having men submit to them. His domina, Hara was a women of Indian decent. A dark-skinned beauty with flawless mocha skin, a thin angular face and piercing dark eyes. Instead of the normal spandex or leather catsuit most associated with a women in her position, she wore a traditional sari. He never was one much for tradition. Its delicate appearance made her no less commanding in anyway. It was rich and elegant, spun gold and accentuated with bright jewel tones that were traditional of her culture. She was elegant but firm with him and knew exactly what he needed in order to escape from the world around him. She spent hours bringing him to the edge, holding him there and bringing him back. Taking away any ability for him to think.

But now even Hara was gone. He’d offered her a full ride to come and live in America. Not with him specifically because as much as he respected her as his domina, there were no romantic feelings involved. No. He simply wished for her to have the chance if she wanted to change something in her life. But Hara was a traditionalist. Born and raised in Harrow as part of the Gujarati community, her family had lived here in Greater London for generations and she had no desire to leave. She had outright refused. Thanked him for his kindness and wished him luck in his travels but turned down his offer to come to the City of Angels with him.

So here he was, unpacking his things into an empty mansion. By himself. He carted in boxes from their resting places outside and stacked them in the foyer and adjacent rooms. He didn’t bother to sort them yet, knowing full well that it would take him several days to do all the work by himself. Not like he had the motivation to really do so right now. The work was methodical and quiet, save for the soft crooning of Morrissey drifting from the only bit he’d cared to unpack so far, his vinyl player.

 _Driving in your car. I never, never want to go home. Because I haven’t got one_. He sung sadly with the other Brit, the melancholy song putting him in a rather detached mood because although his name was on the deed and he’d been the one to sign the papers, this house wasn’t home.

So days later as he sat alone in an empty room, nursing a mug of English breakfast tea, spiked generously with a nip of brandy, he found himself again staring down at the slip of paper that contained Buffy’s number.

 _Come on mate, don’t be such a milksop. She wants you to text her, said as much before she left._ The soft voice inside his head spoke, the one who always seemed to give good advice but was often overshadowed by the other. _That was six bloody months ago mate_ the demon voice sneered, full of bitter hatred. _It’s been half a year now you git. You really think a woman like that is still expecting anything from your sorry arse? Prolly forgotten all about you._

Course she had. The girl was wildfire; couldn’t be contained. No way a woman like that would still be waiting for someone like him. But gods…she was so close now. He knew she was from California. Even if he had to drive to the other end of the state he could see her within a day. Just to see her, all that light and brightness might be enough to drag him out of the dark.

 _Right_. _Decision made then._

After a considerable buildup, which included setting his mobile down at least half a dozen times and walking away to either fetch more tea or more brandy or to check on some paltry little thing that served to distract him from his task, he finally held his thumb above the green send button and quickly pressed down.

And just like that, it was sent

/Lo Buffy. It’s Spike, from the plane. Know it’s been a while. Probably a lot longer than you were expecting, and I do hope you can forgive me. I hope that I’m still welcome in contacting you. I’ve missed you/

Six months it had taken him to write that message and he instantly regretting sending it. Six bloody months to come up with that shite. His goal though was to keep it light and not let his pining feeling for her leech out and poison any chance to at least be her friend. He knew if he’d let William get carried away, the damned thing would be six bleedin pages long and likely written in iambic pentameter.

He stared at the thing until the unchanging pixel screen turned black from lack of use and then he kept staring. _Pathetic git_. Did he really think she was going to just message back right away? Or at all even? So after turning it off and on a few dozen times without a change, he set the tiny device down and walked away.

It wasn’t until much later, after he’d spent most of the day stress cleaning that he happened to notice his phone had begun to blink. Fear and anxiety claw at him, had his stomach rolling and his intestines all knotted up. Could it be her? The feeling swirled ruthlessly in his head, mixed with a strange feeling of hope and giddiness.

Schrödinger’s cat again.

His heart clenched when he saw that the number, still unnamed in his contacts for fear that if she rejected him he could delete it and never have to associate the cruel words with his lovely Buffy. He could just go on pretending that she was the same girl he’d met on the plane.

/Spike!?! OMG I can’t believe it! I thought I might have written my number down wrong or it got lost somehow. I’m so glad to hear from you. I’m really sorry I didn’t get back to you sooner, I’m sure that wasn’t easy on you. I was in the air for most of the day today. But this girl’s feet are firmly planted on the ground, well within cellular tower range. Well at least for the next hour or so they are/

He breathed in a long shaky sigh of relief and instantly the knots disappeared from his belly. He began to type out a message.

/No worries luv, glad to hear your still doing what you love. Even more chuffed that your happy to hear from me. Gotta admit, was going barmy over whether or not you were going to answer/

It was a long while before she answered again. He’d settled into a comfy spot on his couch with a mug of tea and thin paperback, occasionally glancing at whatever news program was on.

/Sorry again. I had to go and google like half of your sentence there. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to English words for things. So chuffed is pleased right? And barmy is crazy? Man I’m going to need to just keep a pocket dictionary to translate you. But really Spike. Did you think I wouldn’t be happy to hear from you?/

If there was any kind of doubt in his mind that entertained the thought that she didn’t want to talk to him anymore, it was gone now.

/I was hoping it meant as much to you as it did for me. You’ve no idea how relieved I am. All this time I wasted. I thought I’d lost my chance to just talk to you/

He quickly sent a follow up

/Remind you to get right on that and send you one. Can’t have you not being able to understand me. Just because I’m in the states now doesn’t mean I plan to become one of you Yanks overnight/

/Ha Ha, very funny Brit boy. But in all seriousness. Of course it meant a lot. What we had on that flight was special. At least I thought it was. And the sex was amazing too/

His lips curled into a smile. A real smile. Something he may have put on for the past couple of months for others but came so naturally when he was talking to her. It was just him then. She said it had been special. Their time together had meant something to her. And what’s more, it was separate from the sex.

/I feel the same way. Feel like an absolute git for having you wait this long to hear from me. Could have been doing this so much sooner. Let fear get in the way/

His heart nearly burst from his chest when he received her next text message.

/Your worth the wait/

He was worth the wait. He was worth her time. It lingered there, drawing in more power. _Your worth the wait_. Then this wasn’t some made up pipe dream conjured up in an effort to make him feel better. They weren’t fairy tale dreams from his imagination. These feelings between them, that connectiveness that they shared was something tangible. Before he was able to reply with something that would have probably read like bad love poetry, he received another message.

/Also I totally just got this, so don’t make fun of my blonde moment. Your living in the states now!? When did that happen?/

/It was quite recent. So recent in fact that I’m currently using an unpacked box as a coffee table/

/Are you gonna tell me where in the world is Spike? Or are you in hiding? I pinkie swear promise that I’m not going to tell your entire fan base your address/

/Not exactly advertising to the common public, but no not hiding. Wouldn’t dream of you doing something so cruel. Gonna hold you to it about not givin’ me away though. If I end up with a single piece of fan mail, your toast Summers/

/Scouts honor. So spill. You’re from London, so I’m guessing you in some place where it rains all the time right? Seattle maybe? Or Portland?/

/No secrets between you and I. Course I’ll tell you. You’ll be shocked to hear that I’ve chosen the opposite really. I figured I would move somewhere central to the production of the film for the first book so actually…I’ve relocated to LA/

/Seriously!? Where!? You know I’m from LA too right?/ A second message quickly followed the first. /You know what this means don’t you?/

There was no mistaking her excitement. If all the exclamation points didn’t get that across he could see it in the choice of her words and gods was he happy to hear that she was just as excited to see him as he was to see her. Admittedly, his choice to move to LA wasn’t purely from a business standpoint. When she’d revealed to him on the plane that she was from California, the choice seemed logical to move to the Golden State. He had no idea which city she was from and with so many possibilities; San Francisco, Sacramento, San Diego and so many more, he’d just taken a lucky guess.

And now that she was so close, well of course he knew what this meant. At least. He hoped he’d read it right.

/I’m hoping it means that I’ll be able to see you again/

/Of course that’s what it means, I figured at best we would be able to talk over the phone once in a while, you know, because of the long distance and everything, and that we could text each other like besties separated at college/

With that his heart sank a bit. What was he expecting? That as soon as she heard from him again they were going to have some illustrious affair and pick up right where they started all those months ago? Of course not. _Get a grip you git_ He hadn’t seen her in over six months, hadn’t talked to her. That likelihood that a woman like her was unattached after all this time…

Another message from her popped up on his screen

/Wow I just reread that, and it totally came out wrong. I totally just friend zoned you in like three lines didn’t I with the whole best friends deal didn’t I? God I’m sorry Spike. You mean so much more to me then that obviously. I apparently suck at this kind of thing. /

The tension that wracked his body was immediately gone. Left. Like a great weight had been removed. His hurt turned swiftly to confidence and he turned on the charm.

/Obviously eh?/

/Obviously/

He could almost hear the smirk in her voice

/We’re more like…separated lovers you and I. Full of passion but we met each other under bad circumstances. Star-crossed. Like Romeo and Juliet without all the underaged teen romance and TV drama murder suicide vibe/

/My dear. Are you using literature to try and seduce the man with the English degree?/

/Knew that accent of yours was phony Mr. Englishmen. Just how long did it take for you to study for it eh pet?/ She joked

/Hah. Bloody. Hah. Think your clever aren’t you? I’ll have you know I come from a very distinguished community of London/

/You’re kidding right? Your totally cockney. And didn’t think I don’t know my British accents. I’m a young girl in my early twenties. I watch BBC/

/Hmm. So my estimations were correct. Must be about legal age are we? American legal age that is/

/You know, if I wasn’t so attracted to you and we didn’t already do the deed I’d totally think you creepy right now. Yeah okay I’m 21. Does that even matter?/

/No. Not at all. Least not for me. Long as it doesn’t matter that your with someone who’s nearly a decade older/

/That being?/

/28/

/Oh good. If you’d have said 29 it would have been too much/

/Cheeky little thing/

/You love it/

/That I do luv, that I do/

/I just imagined you purring at me. Is that weird?/

/Never going to be weird you imagining me doing anythin. In fact luv, I wholly encourage it/

/No disputes here. And hey I’m really sorry but I’m going to have to cut this short for the night. I’ve got another flight here soon and I have to start getting ready for it. It’s a shame that you caught me when I’m about to be in the air for the next couple of days. Otherwise I’d be driving over to your place right now to see you and help you unpack/

/My bloody fault that. ‘F I hadn’t been such a ponce; we could have been talking much sooner/

/Hey now. Let’s not play the blame game okay? It’s nobody’s fault. I won’t be able to talk until later so let’s end this on a good note okay?

/Gods Buffy, I’m just happy there’s a next time to look forward to/

/Me too Spike. I’m really happy that you reached out to me. We have so much to catch up on and talk about. But I really need to go/

/Goodnight, goodnight. Parting is such sweet sorrow. That I shall say goodnight till it be morrow/

/Romeo and Juliet. Of course. It’s going to be nice, listening to pretty words from you. Goodnight Spike/

/Goodnight Buffy/

By the time they stopped talking it was pitch black outside and no more boxes had been unpacked. But none of that mattered. He was once again talking to Buffy. With a new lightness in his heart, he turned off the lights downstairs and headed upstairs to lay down for bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Songs Mentioned: (I do not own any of these works)  
> The Smiths - There is a Light That Never Goes Out
> 
> Spike recites Romeo and Juliet
> 
> I know I've mentioned creating a spotify playlist for my works before. I still haven't but I swear I'm still going to....someday when I have time. Keep a lookout for it.  
> This chapter is relatively short, at least for me, most of the others will be longer.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Getting to know yours, smut of the long distance and dreamscape variety and delving bit more into the 'plot'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own Buffy or any of Joss' characters.  
> Chapters should be a bit longer than the first from here on out.

The next time Spike heard from her was over twelve hours later. The sun was still out but already the sky was painted by the warm tones of its inevitable setting which would fade into his favorite time of day. He of course was still lazily lying in bed, a full day of sleeping in and doing absolutely soddin nothing, save for the moving of few more boxes. He rolled over to his nightstand and checked his phone; a voicemail from his agent, a text from one of the producers of the film and a few other trivial emails, but only one thing caught his attention.

/Good morning sleepyhead 😊/ He noted that the text had been sent at 9:34, a reasonable time to assume that a normal person would be awake.

/Good evening luv. Apologize for such a late response. I don’t exactly stick to a normal time schedule. ‘S all over the place really. How was your flight? I don’t believe I caught where you would be today/

/That’s because I didn’t tell you. I flew from LA to New York with a layover in Houston. That’s where I was messaging you from last night. I also unfortunately had to work economy class which is so not my favorite thing. Other than that, everything went fine/

/I can imagine. Once I was able to afford first class, I never went back. You said you were out for a few days. When and where to next?/

/Tonight, 9:30. It’s a really late flight but I’m more of a night owl anyways. It’s from New York to Milan/

/Very posh/

/Yeah! It should be really nice. I’ll even get to spend a day there. Maybe I’ll even buy myself something/

/Pretty women deserve pretty things. Especially you/

/Well aren’t you a gentlemen?/

/Only some of the time/

/God Spike. I apparently just have to read your texts and I’m already getting hot under the collar. But I have to wait. For now at least. I’ve been wanting to talk to you about this/

/Doesn’t sound good/

/It’s okay, really. I just wanted to say that I haven’t had a chance to break up with the guy I’ve been ‘seeing’, and I want to deal with it before anything else happens between us/

There was a brief twinge of jealousy that ran through him at the thought of her with another man. Like lightning it coursed through his veins in a flash and made all of his hairs stand on edge. A possessive rage followed, swept through him like fire, dangerous and deadly before smoldering and burning out completely. _Mine_ The inner voice roared. That demon of his that was always lurking in the back of his mind.

He knew he had no right to feel the way he did. He had no claim on her. Hadn’t talked to her in over six months. Hell, he had even wished that she would be able to meet other men with confidence after what they’d shared

/How long you been with this bloke?/

/Just a couple of months. Nothing special. He doesn’t matter okay? You do/

/Just like that?/

/Just like that. He’s not worth it. Just a boy to pass the time. He wasn’t you/

Just like that, all the rage and possessive jealously were gone almost as quickly as they had come on. He wasn’t used to this, being the other guy, the one that the girl wanted. And now knowing that this could have happened earlier, that she had been **_waiting_ **for him.

/God I’m such a jerk. I’m so sorry I didn’t do this sooner/

/Hey, I thought we talked about this. There’s no need for that. No blame is being placed here. What matters to me is that your here now/

/Suppose. Still feel like a right git/

/Don’t. Please Don’t/ She sent a secondary text quickly after that. /I should be able to tell him later; he’s usually up really early so I can do it right after I’m done with my flight. Maybe even before that/

/I’ll try and be good till then. No promises though. Not when the end is in sight/

/I can order you to be good. Would you listen to me then?/

He shuddered picturing the stern look on her face, hearing the tone of her voice, seeing the strength of her stance.

/Oh yes. At your command and you bloody well know it/

/Good. I promise you I’ll send you a message as soon as it’s done/

/’S alright luv. I can be patient. Can wait as long as bloody necessary. I take it then that you took what I said to heart?/

Her following message took a few minutes to get to him, but once he saw it he understood why. A paragraph of text came at him then and through it all he couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride that he’d managed to influence her, change her in a way that made her feel more confident of herself, more in tune with her own wants and needs rather than someone else’s.

/You…inspired me. You made me think about myself in a completely different way. I stopped thinking of myself as some mistreated girl. I stopped blaming myself for what happened to me because it was **_never_** something that **_I_** did wrong. It wasn’t that I was feeling something I shouldn’t or because I was a slut. The way I feel about myself and my desires and urges are completely normal. It’s okay to want the things I want. It’s okay to be a dominant female in the bedroom/

/Truly happy that you feel that way and I’m chuffed that I’m the one that gave that to you. Told you as much when we were together that there’s nothing hotter to me then a woman that takes charge, takes control. And you kitten, you were bloody well made for it/

/Just like you were made to be a submissive right? There’s nothing wrong with seeing a man like you, someone tough and confident who wants nothing more than to have their control taken away for a while. To place all that strength and let someone else be responsible for it. In my opinion, it’s so much hotter that way seeing someone like you beneath me/

/And its hot being under someone like you. I’m actually what’s called a switch, if were getting technical. Can be happy anywhere. Dom or Sub, whatever my partner needs me to be. I’m hardwired to please. With Dru, it went back and forth. Mostly I was her plaything. Let her do to me whatever it was she needed and experienced just about everything in terms of sexual activity. But sometimes she needed someone to take control and I’d do that too/

/But you prefer being a sub?/

/Very much so/

/I have so many things I want to talk to you about. This whole world that I never even knew about before you. And now I have someone I can be comfortable with. But…we should wait until I’ve broken it off with Parker okay? Everything that I want to talk about is definitely sexual in nature and with you I know exactly where it’s likely to lead. Hell, where I want it to go. So we have to stop now because I’m not that kind of girl/

/Know you’re not. Just like I’m not. It’s part of your charm I think pet. Not many women like you left in the world/

/I just…we both know how it feels to be on the other side of things. And as much as I wanted revenge after what happened to me, I couldn’t bring myself to be that kind of person/

/So what would you like to talk about instead luv?/

/Well considering I don’t really know much about you other than the things I learned on the plane, why don’t we start with some basics?

/Sounds…alright. Gotta admit. Never done something like this before/

/What? Just talked? But you were with Drusilla for almost a decade. You can’t tell me in all that time that you didn’t talk to each other/

/Buffy, dove. Dru was as mad as a March hare. She was never truly lucid enough to ever have a conversation. Well, what you would consider a conversation. We did talk, sometimes, but it wasn’t what people would call ‘normal/

/Sounds like it could have been really rough. Especially after getting to know you and the kind of person you are. How you need connection, to be close to someone. Did you ever feel like you were being taken advantage of? Or that you were being ignored? I mean…don’t get me wrong Spike, I know we all find love in different places and that love doesn’t have to be the same blueprint for everyone. It just seems…odd? I guess/

/I did feel ignored sometimes. There were days where Dru would go off her trolley completely. Sometimes weeks would pass where she’d lock herself away in her studio, nattering on and on. Could barely get her to eat and drink and she wouldn’t come to my bed. Those were the worst. Lonely/

/You get lonely easy, don’t you Spike?/

It was hard. Bringing himself to talk so deeply like this. The only other person he’d talk to as such before was his psychologist, a clinical outsider who was there to judge whether or not he needed medication (he did) and diagnose him. Admitting his weaknesses, his faults as a person were usually difficult. But not so much with her.

/Yes. Egregiously so. White coats say I have a severe case of separation anxiety. Normally it only effects children…animals. Not grown men. Take something for it. Doesn’t always help. So when Dru would get like that or when she stopped coming with me on my tours or even wanting to be around me, well, it got bad for a while/

/Oh Spike. But you still loved her regardless. Didn’t you?/

/Was my everything/

/I’m glad that she had someone like you. Someone that loved her for who she was, even though she might not have been considered perfect. You’re so full of love, aren’t you?/

/Bit deep pet. Not much for self-reflection. For you though, I’m willing to bare my soul, ugly and scarred as it is. I always believed in love as this…higher power. Something that everyone is guided by and everyone years for. I’ve always needed it. Me da, me mum, lovers. I feel…incomplete without it. Half a person. A shell. What Drusilla gave me may not have been true love, but she gave me what she knew, what she had to give, and it was enough for me/

/You speak like a poet. That’s so beautiful Spike. It truly is. Your wonderful. Really. I saw something in you on the plane and I’ve wanted to get to know you as a person ever since. There’s complexity abound in you. I’m so glad that I’m finally getting the chance to meet the man behind the mask…er leather duster in this case I suppose. Thank you for sharing with me/

/Welcome…always did believe that honesty and communication are the most important thing in any relationship. Call me ole fashion if you like. Amazing shaggin’ doesn’t hurt either o’course/

/Let’s stay away from the amazing shagging for tonight though yeah? Cause we both know how that’s going to go. And maybe we shouldn’t talk about anything else heavy tonight okay? I didn’t mean for it to be like that right off the bat/

/’S okay pet. Don’t mind sharing with you so much. But you lead this thing yeah? Ask all the questions. I’ll likely bollocks it all up/

/Okay, I’ll start off with some easy ones/

The conversation lasted hours. Questions and answers going back and forth like a well-coordinated tennis match. He learned that her favorite color was pink, that she loved New Kids on the Block even though they made her feel dated, that she loved almost every genre of music and she would listen to anything at least once before she turned it down. She had however, **_never_** listened to punk music (or what he considered good punk) so he had a world of music to introduce her to. She loved to dance and go out with her friends, but her academics were extremely important to her. She was currently working on a bachelor’s in business, though she wasn’t sure exactly what she wanted to do with it yet.

He got the impression that she loved food almost as much as he did, particularly favoring good American classics, Italian dishes and chocolate, but wasn’t a fan of anything with mushrooms. She was 5’4’’, but has the persona of someone taller, has a stuffed pig named Mr. Gordo, was a cheerleader in high school and her biggest fear was letting down her friends and family. The ironic thing being that she used to be afraid of heights. Her drink of choice was either a fuzzy navel or a glass of sweet white wine, though he tolerance level was pretty low, and her perfect date night consisted of a homecooked romantic dinner, complete with a good movie, dessert and good sex to end the night.

In return he told her more about himself than anyone else in the world knew, even more then Dru. He told her his favorite color was black, at which there was no surprise on her end. That he too would give almost any genre a listen and liked select artists from almost every category. However his favorites were 1970’s to 1980’s punk and included The Sex Pistols, The Ramones, The Clash, Crass, Buzzcocks, Subhumans and a multitude of other British anarcho-punk bands. He’d gotten a degree from Cambridge University in Literature and Fine Arts and was thinking of going back for a second degree in history. He obviously was an accomplished writer, to which he explained the story as to why he began writing in the first place and where he drew inspiration for his books.

Outside of his career he liked going to art shows, to the theatre (both the flicks and opera), to dodgy punk shows in tiny venues. He liked to travel. Food was such an important part of his life and he made it a point to try everything and anything, eating at mostly local establishment and holes in the wall rather than chains. His guilty pleasures were spicy buffalo wings and onion blossoms. He didn’t think there was a food that he’d come across yet that he disliked enough to be considered hated, though his need for sweets was nowhere on pat with Buffy.

He was 5’9’’ _The perfect height for her_ he mused. Had no comfort item, though he cherished a framed photograph of his mum. He hadn’t been anything special in school, but he was a part of a large BDSM community after being introduced to it with Drusilla. He had been diagnosed with severe autophobia and separation anxiety over the years and struggled with them every day. His drink of choice was whiskey, neat, preferably Lagavulin or Glenfiddich but wasn’t opposed to American whiskey or bourbon as they were so often available. Course she had already known that bit already. He finished with revealing that his ideal date was similar to her own and included an evening at home with a homecooked meal, good sex and cuddling to end the night.

They messaged back and forth all night. Between meals and paperwork they became a little more acquainted with each other.

/Holy crap, where did the time even go?!/

/Time flies while having fun. Isn’t that the old saying?/

/I suppose it does. I did have a really good time. Unfortunately it’s time for the not fun part/

/What’s that luv?/

/I have to stop talking to you ☹ I’ve got to deal with Parker/

/Parker…what a pouncy name/

/Your just jealous. But you don’t have to be for very long, okay?/

/As if I’d be jealous of that poofter. No luv, I’m just greedy. Want all of your full and undivided attention/

/You already have that, and you know it/

/Fine then. Want to be able to whisper all sorts of nasties in your ear. Want to tell you all the ways I want to make you spend. Dream I’ve had about you. Fantasies/

/…oh/

/Was trying to be a gentlemen about it as long as I could Buffy. Jus’ can’t help m’self around you/

/Soon. I promise/

/Not soon enough/

/I know. But dammit! I want to be an adult about this. I want to be responsible girl. Not cheaty, liar face girl. I’ll message you when it’s done but I’m also going to need to sleep. I have a long flight to Milan/

/Right sweets. Want you to get your beauty rest. Dispatch the little pillock and sleep well luv. Oh. And safe travels/

_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

He vaguely remembered hearing the buzzing noise of his phone going off somewhere near him, the shrill tinny tone piercing the otherwise deathly silent house. He rose sleepily from the chair he’d fallen asleep in, his laptop somehow still balanced on his lap; powered down and cold.

 _Been off for a while. Must have fallen asleep at the wheel some time ago_ He thought as he collected a dozen loose-leaf sheets filled with scattered notes, scribblings and vaguely discernable pen marks. He glanced out a nearby window noting it was still dark. He collected his phone and noted that there was a single message from Buffy marked for 1:33am stating /It’s done. Hope I didn’t wake you. I’ll text you later!/

_Best get some more kip before she lands. Don’t want to be knackered come time she’s available. Don’t want to keep her waitin’ any longer._

He dragged himself out of the chair and somehow made it up the twisting spiral staircase and out of his clothes without breaking his neck. He crawled into bed, between the luxury sheets and layers of throw blankets and fell back asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.

_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

We he awoke again, it seemed that the day had come and gone. The pale light of a new morning filtered through the blinds. He sat up groggily, unaccustomed to getting so much sleep that his eyes felt heavy and body felt drugged with it. Rubbing his face and running fingers through stiff gelled locks he stretched and made for the shower to clean up.

When he was finished he put on his kettle and started sorting through his emails and missed calls. His agent was trying to get in contact with him about a panel for a local convention happening downtown in two days. It seemed that the old boy had been trying to reach him for the past week or so, with an increase in the amount of calls and messages over the past day trying to convince him to go. It was a bit short notice, but he finally sent a text back to him accepting the position anyways.

He’d denied his fans too much recently, hiding his face from the public due to his pit of depression followed by his move from England to the States. He couldn’t keep letting them down like that, not when they’ve been so supportive of him.

He checked his phone out of boredom, noting the time of 8:23am and doing the mental calculation of time zones to determine it was 5:23pm in Milan. He hadn’t heard from Buffy yet today which he found strange considering her flight to Milan would have landed a few hours ago.

 _She did say she was planning on napping when she got in. Girl’s probably still fast asleep._ He didn’t want to be that clingy git that didn’t give her enough space, but he was already missing the comfort that came with talking to her and before he thought about his actions much longer her was sending her a new message.

/Evenin’ luv. Just wanted to see how you fared/

While he waited for her response he clicked onto the last message he had received from her, eyes focusing in on the first half of her sentence. It’s done. Only two words but how powerful they were indeed. Her statement was short and definite. There was no attachment, no emotion in it to speak of which affirmed to him that whatever she’d had with the lad was nothing for him to fuss over.

Judging by the time stamp, the conversation, whatever that consisted of, was probably right after they had stopped talking for the night and it hadn’t lasted very long. Part of him internally cringed for the boy, knowing it was probably out of the blue for him and not a conversation one wanted to receive over mobile. But that’s where his sympathy ended. When he realized that he didn’t have to restrain himself any longer. Buffy wanted to break up with the bloke explicitly so there was no guilt on her part when they inevitably engaged in exploratory sexual conversations.

Pure elation washed over him from head to toe knowing that simple fact that she had chosen him. Not only that but she left the boy almost as soon as she could. Judging by her actions, a couple of months with this Parker git either meant literally nothing to her, or her value of yours truly was a hell of a lot higher than he ever would have thought. Did she realize how easy she was making it to fall in love with her?

While he was nursing his cuppa, browsing the news on his mobile (not stuffy enough to get the morning paper like every other stereotypical Englishmen) his phone lit up with a text from Buffy.

/Hello yourself/ Was her response back and even though she had refrained from using some kind of emoji he could almost see the smile behind the black and white words.

/Hope I’m not being a bother. Didn’t want to wake you if you were still sleeping/

/Not a bother at all. I’ve been awake for a while. I usually only sleep three hours or so. I’ve been enjoying my free time/

/Still shopping then?/

/Yep. Still on the hunt. Mostly done for myself I think but my friend Willow is looking forward to finding something really nice to wear for her girlfriend when she gets home/

/Rather nice that you get to spend some time with her outside of work. What are you two birds currently up to?/

/She doesn’t like it that you called her a bird. She made this face :S before I explained to her that your English/

/Doesn’t answer my question. Though if I’ve offended her, I’m sorry/

/It’s okay, when she found out that I’m seeing and Englishmen it’s like everything is all forgiven. It’s got to be the accent. Oh and we were shopping for lingerie/

/Oh now there’s a lovely thought. Hope you’ve picked out something nice for yourself too pet. Something to hug all those wonderfully fit curves and emphasize that toned pretty figure of yours. Something that shows off the swell of your breasts, that bitable arse of yours. Maybe something crotchless so that your cunny is all on display for me. I want you to describe what you’ve bought for yourself so I can tell you how I’d take it off you/

/And now you’ve managed to make her turn almost the same color as her hair/

/Didn’t know your conversation’s weren’t private. Not that I mind/

/Well I do :/ I don’t think she can even handle anything that explicit. Though she did say that I was lucky to have you and that we sound hot/

/No luv. ‘S me that’s lucky to have you/

/You’re so sweet Spike. And to answer your question, I did get something for myself. A couple of things actually. One’s that I’d love to describe in full detail for you later, and ones that I want to wait for you to see me in personally. I was thinking about getting something for you. If you want it that is, I wasn’t sure if you’d like it. I mean…we haven’t really established anything yet and I want to talk to you about it first but…later. When were alone/

/Christ pet, I can wait, can be patient but the anticipation is gonna kill me. You don’t have to get me anything either. You shouldn’t be spending money on me, not when all I want to do is buy things for you. Want to give you everything you want/

/Hey! I’m not in this because of your money Spike. I can buy my own things/

/I know pet, I know. ‘M sorry. Just want to take care of you. It’s in my bloody nature, who I am. Can’t help but want to treat you like the golden goddess you are/

/Well…maybe one shopping trip wouldn’t be bad. And a manicure?/

/Whatever you want lamb, it’s yours/

/So do you prefer white, red or black. Lingerie that is? Or is there another color you might like better?/

/Well. Prefer nothing but the smoothness of your pretty sun kissed skin. Want to see that hairless cunt of yours again and to get a glimpse of those cute little tits of yours. If I had to choose? Black prolly, though white would look lovely with your tan/

/Noted. You know, I’m looking forward to seeing you with nothing either. I didn’t exactly get a glimpse of the full package. I know for a fact that you’ll look good in what I got for you/

/Just chuffed that I may get prezzies. Don’t have to do that/

/I did actually. In a selfish way they’d be mostly a present for me anyways/

/Not selfish. Can do and take whatever you want from me. Already told you that. ‘S long as I’m not meant to be wearing a frock that is/

/It’s not a dress. I promise/

/I’ll keep you to it. Now. Have fun shoppin’ with Red yeah? And we’ll talk later. Don’t want to keep you tied up while you’re out spending time together/

/It’s really not a bother. But thanks. She kinda keeps giving me this look every time I pull my phone out. I’m almost afraid she’d going to take it from me. Also, Red?/

/Said she turned redder than her hair color/

/You’re really good at picking up little details/

/I write books for a living, pidge. Details is what I do. I’m thoroughly committed to the littlest of details/

/Somehow I think that was extremely sexual/

/And your good at it too it seems/

/I’ll talk to you later Spike/

/Ciao baby/

_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

While Buffy spent the rest of the evening shopping with her girlfriend, Spike did his best to stay busy. He found that writing had gotten a bit easier on him ever since he first connected with Buffy all those months ago. He attributed it to her being his sort of dream catcher, filtering out much of the negative energy that surrounded him, therefore negating the wicked case of writer’s block that had been plaguing him. Black clouds chased away by rays of warm sunlight after a bad storm.

However now he was facing a lack of focus due to his need to continue his conversation with Buffy. He’d taken on a bit of an obsession since they started talking again, the majority of his thoughts often straying towards her and little else. While it had not negatively affected the time schedule of his writing, no more than the depression and anxiety from the fallout of his collapsed engagement anyhow, he feared his agent would be down his throat if he did not provide proof that he was getting something done.

Not that his agent was a taskmaster sort of guy. For an old Englishmen, the bloke was considerably less stodgy and stuck up compared to some of the old pissants he’d grew up around. That and he was always sympathetic towards the situation and he was the closest thing to a friend he had. That being said, there was still deadlines that had to be met. Still millions of fans to please. He wanted to make sure that his books were coming out on a regular basis and certainly didn’t want to gain a reputation such as one Mr. Martin.

But how could he not get distracted? Now that the source of his pining, his dreams, his fantasies was in his grasp. Rather, he was in hers. It was subtle but he had picked up on it through the little hints woven in her messages. Buffy had decidedly taken his message to heart.

_“See her? He grunted “Goddess is what you are. Soddin vixen of a women. See her beauty, her strength. She takes what she needs from men like me and makes them beg her for their release. You’ve got so much power goddess. Make them crawl for you”_

That thought alone had his mind spinning in circles, caught in the quicksand of his fantasies. Every time he thought about the power that she had now, the strength she possessed to bring a man to his knees he was dragged down deeper and deeper away from reality. He spent long stretches of the morning indulging is erotic dreamscapes in which his mistress, his goddess had him under her complete control. He wondered what skills she had developed over the past couple months. Did she learn by way of the internet? Studying clips or videos? Reading books of how other men and women treated their submissive? Did she take that knowledge and practice on boys like Parker? Or did she learn by way of a mentor, through example?

That train of thought, the unanswered questions and vivid fantasies in his head brought his eager cock to life. Trapped tightly beneath the confines of his jeans it jerked painfully against the cold metal of his zip in reaction to the lust filled thoughts that she inspired. He palmed himself gently and the thing surged beneath his skimming touch. This was her power; to bring him to a near painful full mast with only a few stray thoughts and conversations.

It hadn’t exactly been his plan to be a lazy sod today, but fuck it, what else did he really have to do today other than talk to her? With a firm decision he removed his prick from the confines of its denim prison and pumped himself languidly. There was no rush, no place to be, no race to completion. He let his head fall back and closed his eyes.

He imagined her then, kneeling over his bound and naked body, eyes wide and practically drooling over him.

 _As she towered over him, the raging fire in those forest colored eyes was quelled by looks of uncertainty. He thought to his collection of toys, the ones stashed away for later, the ones that were now all laid out in front of her. He watched her carefully and noticed her shaking_.

_What’s the matter luv? His fantasy-self rumbled. You alright? She nodded shakily and he shuddered when he caught the subtle movement of her fingertips caressing over the rounded tip of his favorite faux cock like she was teasing his own._

_“I’ve” She started, eyes widening as she started to form her sentence “I’ve never”_

_“Never what precious? Had a man let you do this? Had a man that liked this?_

_He tested his bonds, the muscles of his arms flexing but he couldn’t move them an inch. She’d tied him up good, spread eagle with silken ropes. She looked apprehensive as she grabbed at the silicon dildo, thick and hard, long as his own and nearly as thick._

_He groaned his approval as she plucked it off the bed, her jade eyes snapping back to his._

_“You want this?” She teased, gaining confidence_

“Oh yes” He groaned to the empty silence “Please yes” His prick surged again in his hand as he tugged firmly, thumb flicking over his covered head

_“You’ve been a good boy haven’t you?” She questioned, leading him. Her eyes were trained on his while her hands searched out for the battle of lube sitting beside her._

_“Yes goddess” He answered quickly_

_“Yes you have” She cooed “Such a good boy. Your my good boy aren’t you Spike?_

_“Yes” He groaned out “Yes. Yes. Your good boy. All yours goddess” He loved to be her good boy. Loved pleasing her._

_“And good boys deserve rewards, don’t they?”_

_Her gaze dropped to the thick silicon dick as she squirted a mess of lube over its tip_

He failed to bite back the whimper in his throat as he imagined her fisting the toy, covering the entirety of its length with chilly lube. The fap-fap sounds of her slicking it up in his fantasy mirroring the one as he slicked himself up with the precum leaking from his head.

_She had the head of his cock in a death grip turning it nearly purple in color, stemming any possibility for him to cum, restricting his pleasure. It pulsed strongly in her hand as she nudged the tip of the fake against his slicked up entrance, teasing him, torturing him, making him squirm_

_“Please” His voice a pathetic whisper as he tried to buck in her hand, but she was resilient, held him good and tight. Her fingers pressed tightly against his frenulum piercing, making him quiver._

“Buffy please” His real voice echoed the desperation of his fantasy self, pulling his foreskin all the way back to uncover the shiny red head and silver beads.

_“I didn’t even have to ask you to beg” She mused “You just did it all on your own. You that desperate Spikey? You want this that bad? She crooned, pressing it right up against the tight ring of his muscle, gently starting to ease it in._

_“Want it” He whined “Oh please. Oh god. Want it” The delicious pressure as it slipped in deeper making him moan out for her. That slow, full body burn as his body stretched to accommodate the massive size of it. She let out a triumphant trill as she forced more inside._

_“God I love hearing you like this. Those sounds you make for more. Love looking at you while your bound up for me. Seeing such a strong, powerful, cocky man on the outside begging me to fuck him with a fake dick” She slid it all the way home, its silicon testicles pressed tightly against his own, adding another layer of pleasure. He threw back his head and unleashed a deep primal growl._

_“Oh baby, do that again for me” She commanded, sliding it nearly all the way out, holding it there until he whined with the loss of it, of feeling empty before easing it back in again. Once. Twice. Buried deep. Pump. Pump. A twist that made him cry out. Each thrust gaining more force._

He grunted, a sound more animal than man, failing in keeping his hips against the chair, arcing of their own accord as he lost himself in the trance of his mirrored self. The languid pace he’d started with quickly devolving into hard quick thrusts to match the drag of the fake in his fantasy. He gripped and pulled hard, on this side of pain and pleasure but fuck how he loved it.

_He rocked against her the best he could in his restrains, hips thrusting up to meet her own, moaning and groaning with no one to care about how loud he’d become. And she took it in stride. He watched her eyes light up as she became rougher with him, moaned her own pleasures, gripped his sorry cock and stroked it in time with her thrusts. He was getting close now. Too close. She was testing him on his claims about near inhuman stamina, making quick work and large messes of him. She must have known that too because her grip grew tighter still, long hard pulls that she accentuated with quick twists of her wrist at the end of a downward stroke. All the while the force deep inside him getting faster, harder. Each stroke brushing against his own special spot._

_“Want to come baby?” She whispered huskily; lips pulled back in a devious smile_

_“Only if my goddess allows it” He responded thickly_

_She gave him a contented rumble. “Such nice manners on my tough looking boy. My pretty punk rocker. You’ve been so good for me. Of course you can cum. Your right there, aren’t you lover?”_

Oh he was right there alright. Right. Bloody. There. He was so ungodly hard, no give at all as he fisted himself furiously, his non active hand clenching onto the arm of the chair with white knuckles. The tingling feeling in the pit of his stomach that radiated out to his limbs, pooled in his tightening sac, became all encompassing. He was really moaning now, not just in the fantasy where had Buffy as an audience. But here is the solitude of his own home, he didn’t have to hold back either. Groaning and gasping, quick flicks of the wrist and quivering thighs, he was right there, right there, oh Christ, right. Fucking.

A pitiful whimper escaped his throat right before he roared his completion, thick spurting ropes splashing back against his shirt covered body and he snapped his head back against the head of the chair, milking his underused cock for every wasted drop.

“Christ” He muttered to himself, catching his breath and pushing himself to a sitting position. Feeling boneless and relatively sated, he ran the fingers of his non-soiled hand through his ungelled locks and took a moment to bask in the leftover feelings. He wasn’t sure how long he sat there, just breathing and taking things in, but he eventually heard the chirping sound of his phone.

 _Buffy_ He thought, happiness blooming through his chest. He picked up the phone quicker then humanly possible, noting that she’d left him another text.

/Hey there, what’s up?/

/Not much, you have impeccable timing/

/Yeah? Did I catch you at a good time then? You all finished?/

/Gloriously so, thanks for asking ;P/

/I get the feeling that were not talking about you working on your manuscript/

/See? Good at picking up details. Are you all finished shopping?/

/I think I might have broken my credit card, and maybe pulled something in my shoulder/

/Both easy fixes luv. You know my thoughts on you and my money and once your safety back in LA I’ll be happy to tend to your shoulder. I’ve been told I’m a good masseuse. Would love to work you all over/

/Oh I’ll take you up on that. God I feel like compared to you and your ridiculously long list of talents that I’m not going to add much to this/

/Lets get one thing straight Buff. I have good intuition that I won’t have much control when it comes to the things happening behind closed doors for us. And you have no idea how happy that makes me. Truly. And I never want to take any control away from you because that would be like trying to stop the sun from shining and I’ll be the one to get burned. But if there’s one thing I will say, one thing I’d command of you is to never say anything like that again. You bring so much more to this then I ever could. The things I’ve learned, the skills I have are worth nothing if I’ve no one with whom to serve. You are worth far more than you give yourself credit for. I’ll not be having you put yourself down like that/

/You uh. You sure know how to make a girl feel good about herself. You were the one who gave me confidence in the first place to go down this road. To walk in new shoes and let myself be this person that I want to be and never even knew existed within me. You were right that night you know, she’s incredible. And you brought her out/

/Can’t wait to meet her/

/You’re not busy then? Because I really do want to talk about what’s happening here. Where this is going for us/

/Completely free. Did some work earlier so that I’d have all the time we need tonight to talk. I’m all yours pet/

/Good. I’d prefer if we actually talk rather than message if that’s okay/

/Course luv. Been dying to hear your sweet voice again/

/And I’m tired of having to read everything in a British accent/

He smiled at that and made his way up the staircase and down the hall to his bedroom, stripping his soiled shirt as he went. His room was sparsely decorated, for the time being, but it had his bed and clean sheets and that was enough for now. Just as he stripped himself of his pants and settled under covers, he heard the sound of his ringtone going off and a rush of joy ran through him.

“Hello cutie” He purred into the phone

“Oh god. It’s so good to hear your voice again. Just as English as ever”

“Well it seems that a few days here in the States wasn’t enough time for me to just lose the pesky thing”

“I hope you never lose it. Especially when you’re talking to me during sex”

“Suppose I can be persuaded to keep it then, if my lady enjoys it that much”

For a moment there was nothing from her side and he panicked that he’d gone and bolloxed it up by using that particular possessive known. A slip of the tongue and his gut twisted with the anxiety that came with fear.

“You…you are my lady right?” He asked hesitantly

“If you want me to be” She said in a soft contented voice “I wasn’t sure how it was going to work if were still on the other sides of the world. I had originally figured that we’d call each other once in a while, maybe have some hot phone sex if were both unattached at the time. Just kind of a casual friends with benefits things. I never would have imagined you’d move over here”

“Neither did I honestly. But…I think I was due for a change. Too many dark and bitter memories in London. Too many ghosts. I started makin’ progress with controlling some of the anxiety and depression when I went to Rio for those couple weeks. Winded up stayin’ a bit longer than the original fortnight. But once I got back to Merry Old…well it all just came back. I was in a new flat, hadn’t talked to or heard from Dru in in months, but I still felt her there”

When she remained silent, he continued on.

“After that, my agent suggested that I get away for good. Not like I had anythin’ left for me there. Family is gone. Not a lot of friends. So I came here/

“What made you choose LA?”

He sighed

“Honestly? Causa you. ‘Member you tellin’ me that you were from Cali. Just kinda…I dunno, took a random guess as to which city. He heard her wistful sigh and felt his heart flutter.

“That’s probably the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard”

He snorted derisively “Got lucky mostly”

“You know, for the extreme tough punk guy look, your surprisingly sensitive, very sweet, extremely sensual. It’s extremely attractive. And kind of cute”

“Oi. I am bloody well **_not_ **cute” He hissed scathingly, anger flaring a bit, that was, until he heard her giggled and then it all melted away he deflated.

“Spike?”

“Yeah pet”

“You wanna be my boyfriend?”

His heart fluttered in his chest again and he felt a full body wave of peace and happiness wash over him. Boyfriend. The word echoing within his mind, down to his very soul. He felt it there is his nerve endings, his muscles, down to his bone marrow. Boyfriend wasn’t forever, something that he could easily picture with this woman, but it was a start. Boyfriend meant dating, meant physical intimacy. All things that he’d only hoped for out of life.

“Never been the boyfriend before” He admitted

Knowing his strange and troubled past, he still wondered why she wanted to put in her lot with him, he probably didn’t deserve what she had to offer, her affection and love and praise.

She gave a contented sound, a sort of sweet little hum that had his heart all a pitter patter.

“Just…stay who you are. Be true to yourself and you’ll be fine. We’ve already proven were compatible and…I really like you” She admitted shyly, and he could almost see the blush that spread across those cheeks.

“Quite fond of you too, luv”

After a slight pause in the conversation she spoke up again.

“So…boundaries? Obviously if we’re together, were exclusive. I know you were in a nontraditional relationship before and I know that both of us travel…a lot, but that doesn’t give either one of us an excuse to sleep around. If either of us gets lonely or horny we can just call the other up”

“No problems there lamb. I’m over the whole multiple partners thing. Not what I wanted in the first place and I certainly don’t want to go down that road again. And I’ve gone long periods of time without sex, especially with Dru, not an issue”

“Was it a difficult change for you?”

He shrugged absently. “I was different before I met Drusilla. Not prude, meek. But I wanted physical comfort with someone. It didn’t matter to be if there was sex involved, just wanted someone to hold. When I met her, everything changed. I changed for her. For the first few years we were travelling it was just the two of us. It wasn’t until we returned to London that our relationship turned nontraditional. When Liam and Darla came into the picture that was when the four of us…intermingled. It was very open. Sex between any of us was commonplace. Dru and Liam. Dru and Darla. Liam and me. Only had Darla in my bed a handful of times. Sometimes all of us at once. Thing about it was, it was just sex. We all slept with each other, but Dru and I were together and Darla and Liam were. Didn’t cross over unless we were shaggin. ‘S what I thought anyways, but the three of them. He scoffed. “They didn’t let Spikey in on the it. It wasn’t difficult for me to go back to monogamy after all that rubbish. It was what I wanted in the first place”

“It sounds…intense. Like some kind of porno”

He snorted “Yeah. Kinda just like that”

“God. But she didn’t like…force you into it did she?”

“No. Not forced” He spoke hesitantly “I didn’t always want to exactly, but I did want to please her”

“Spike. That sounds really unconvincing. It sounds like she abused you. I know you don’t really want to believe that but…”

“No, you’re probably right, looking back on it. Dru didn’t exactly see things the way the rest of the world saw em’. She took what she wanted, when she wanted it and I let her. I was okay with it back then, enjoyed some of it. First time I’d been with a man. She’d wanted to see both of her pretty boys together. Different of course but I did find myself liking it”

“But Liam was…”

“The bloody berk that winded up stealing Dru from me…yeah. Think it’s why it hit me so hard. Know it was an open relationship an all, but I thought we’d had an agreement that when I was out of the country she would wait for me to get back and not engage with them. I was never gone long, couple of days, a week at most. I was naïve”

“That’s awful”

“Suppose so. But I realized something all those times I was in their beds. I liked them, in a friends with benefits as you call it kind of way. I was happy being around them, mostly I think because of my need for physical comfort. But my attraction for them didn’t go more than surface deep. I could get hard for them, no problems there, but there wasn’t an emotional connection like there was with Dru and I. I only participated if Dru asked or commanded me. I’d have been more content with just Dru, but, it’s not what she wanted, didn’t satisfy her” He growled bitterly “And I wanted to give her everythin’ she wanted. Love’s Bitch an all. But a lot changed after that. She wanted me alone less and less. Spent more time with the others. Until…”

The silence stretched on for a moment. He was worried that after heard his sexual past that it would be too much for her. Although he wouldn’t consider Buffy a naïve person when it came to sex, the girl could fuck like a pro despite her small partner count, it appeared that she was still new and innocent when it came to the idea of an open relationship. He hoped that by telling her about his sordid sexual past that she would understand he did not want a repeat and only wanted to love one woman thoroughly with all his heart.

“Thank you, for sharing that with me. I’m sure it was hard to dredge up all of that pain. All of those memories”

“A bit. Yeah. But I don’t want any secrets. Want to be honest with you at all times. We both deserve that. Don’t you think so?”

“Yeah of course. No secrets. I like it. And in the spirit of no secrets. I’m assuming by previous comments that you’ve been with at least one person since me?

“Oh right. Yeah. Two birds. Mainly just to talk to, buy things for. Only shagged if they asked me. Mostly the hooch and depression killed my drive. Couldn’t get hard for the longest time. Wasn’t really looking for it in the first place. Been tested as well, clean. And you?”

He could practically feel her blush over the phone and missed seeing the way her skin flushed dusky pink. How often that he was able to make that happen.

“Clean. I’ve been with three, that includes Parker. But they were nothing serious. Honestly they were just….well they were a way of testing out the new me. After we parted I started teaching myself. First by seeing movies, books, anything I could get my hands on. Then by doing. I was kind of a mess with the first one, so it didn’t last long. I almost gave up on it honestly. But I kept hearing you, what you told me and the strength you gave me that night. Then it wasn’t so hard anymore.

“You had plenty of your own strength Buffy. Your boys just didn’t understand the little vixen that they had the pleasure to serve. I would have been proud to been your first. Would have been right there to teach you, to let you experiment. Would have waited however long you needed. I’m—”

“—Patient, I know. And you don’t know how much I appreciate that. But for the record. I still want to be in a ‘normal’ relationship. I wanna date and go out like a normal couple. I like being dominant in the bedroom and if it’s good with you, I want you to be my sub. Mine alone. But I think it’s mostly a bedroom thing to me. I like some of the lifestyle but not extreme versions of it. I want your obedience and I was control when it comes to your sexual pleasure. I’ll expect you to listen when I ask something of you, and I want to reward or punish you based on your responses, but I don’t want anything to do with what you eat or how you dress. Your still you own complete independent person. You have your career and your agenda, and I have mine”

“Yours luv. Mind, body and soul. Do everything in my power to make you happy. You’ll not want for anything while your with me. You have my complete submission whenever you ask it of me, and I’ll do everything in my power and knowledge to please you. I’m more than okay with all of the things you want.

She giggle “It sounds like some cheesy sex contact just happened”

“Dunno bout cheesy, but it was a form of contract. Puts everything out in the open. ‘S good this way”

“I also want you to know that even though I prefer being dominant, there are going to be days where I’m going to want what we had on the plane. I fantasize about that night a lot. The way you talked to me, how you felt, the intensity of you while you’re the one in control. I liked that a lot too and I want to be able to have it again when I want it” Her voice took on a sultry tone, a stark difference from the almost businesslike way she spoke moments ago.

He felt his blood swarm south and his prick begin to swell

“Want it right now kitten? He suggested, dropping his voice low so that it was velvety smooth. It had its desired effect; he could hear her shiver. “May not be able to touch you, but I can still make you cum for me”

“Oh yes” She said immediately “It’s been too long” Her voice a breathy sigh

“It has” He agreed. “Too long since I’ve heard the sound of your pleasure. I heard them, in my dreams. Like beautiful siren songs. Wake up so bleedin hard I do. If I even make it through the night. First time since I was a virgin lad that I’ve popped off in the middle of the night, dead asleep, dreamin’ of you”

She pleasantly gasped and he heard the delicate sound of a zipper being undone and clothing started to ruffle.

“And if I don’t cum in my sleep, then I spend my morning a dosser with my hand wrapped around my prick imagining it was you. Delicate little fingers you have, all thin and pretty and painted”

He lowered his hand to his groin and gave himself a rough tug through his jeans, groaning shamelessly into the mobile as he did so. She mirrored him, her own groan low and throaty.

“D’u want to touch me pet?”

“Oh yes” She rasped “Yes please. Missed you. Missed your voice. Missed your pretty cock. It hasn’t been the same since you Spike” She drew out his name, emphasizing the k, hard and biting and it drove him wild.

“No? Were your boys not good enough? Did they not serve their goddess well enough to please you?” He growled “Pathetic gits. Don’t know a good thing when they’ve got it.

“Mistress. They call me mistress” She corrected “They weren’t like you. Not experienced, not confident, they didn’t talk to me and…” She dropped her voice “They didn’t measure up to you” She whispered demurely

A low dark chuckle escaped his throat in response

“Oh ho. So that it, innit? Kitten missed Daddy’s big cock?”

“Mmm yes Spike. Missed you so much.

“Tell me more baby. Want to hear you”

He noticed that whatever traces of nervousness he had seen from her former self no longer existed. Instead, the wanton women he’d seen beginning to emerge in the confines of the mile high club took her place.

“It’s only you I’ve been craving since we parted. You’re so different from anyone I’ve ever met, every other guy that I’ve met, my punk maverick. Your so one of a kind. How you look with all those fun bits of skin and how they make you glide in and out of me. The feel of you, warm and silky and swollen for me. I love you piercings and how fun they are to play with and how good they feel when you’re moving in me. It feels like you were made just for me”

“Bloody right it does. Love the way your beautiful cunt grips and holds me like she doesn’t want to let go. ‘Way she punishes me for leaving her with all that bleedin strength. Floods me with all that hot delectable honey” Just the thought of her had him groaning low and deep in his throat. He wished that he could spend a lifetime nuzzles between her creamy thighs, lying prostrate as he worshipped the temple that was her seraphim body.

“You taste so good too” She rasped “Earthy, salty and I swear to god I taste whiskey in you. I want to taste you more. Want to feel you more. I loved being so full of you”

 _Oh Bollocks._ Panic crashed through him, strong and violent like a bolt of lightning and his terror must have materialized as a sound because the heady breaths of her panting ceased, and her voice was timid.

“Spike? What’s the matter? Did I do it wrong?”

“Buffy no. Gods no. Your perfect luv. Christ no I just…Last time I was so bleeding caught up in you begging me to cum for you that we didn’t…I didn’t” He struggled with the words. He’d never had to worry about something like this before. He’d only had Darla in his bed a handful of times and she’d never let him cum inside her and Drusilla hadn’t been able to conceive. It was something that deeply saddened him. He knew it wasn’t her fault of course but wanting to have children of his own someday was a part of his grand plan of life.

But he’d never want to force that on Buffy. Not when her career required her to be so mobile. When he didn’t even know if that was something she wanted. Or if she even wanted him permanently in her life.

“Spike, your freaking me out. What’s the matter baby?”

“Didn’t use anything. When we were together. Begged me to come and my liquored up submissive brain obeyed without a thought. God I’m such a jerk” He mumbled sullenly. Ready to shrink into himself, his stuffy withered away as fear gripped him.

“You don’t have to worry about that” Her voice soft but firm “I’ve been taking the pill for a long long time now. I’m really consistent about it. Really not a fan of condoms here”

He let the news settle in, finally sighing in relief and chuckling nervously. “Can’t say I am either. Just know that I’d never forgive myself if Id’a--”

“Spike really. It’s okay. Nothing happened. And even if it did, you said it yourself. I begged you for it and I was completely sober. It wouldn’t have been your fault”

“Just couldn’t see saddlin’ you with a sprog this early if it’s not in your plan. Not when you’ve got your work and your schoolin’ to get through first”

There was a pause and gentle sigh. “Your such a good guy. Responsible, thoughtful, selfless. I don’t want this weighing down on you when nothing happened. I appreciate your concern, really I do, but it’s been a long time since I’ve had sex as good as I did with you. I’m sure phone sex will be just as amazing, and I really want to be able to enjoy it with you sans guilt. Can we do that?” She pleaded.

There was no way he was going to be able to resist that voice. The thought still tugged at something in the back of his mind, but for the time being he let it go. “Yeah alright luv” He agreed after a few moments of silence. “Gonna have to help a fella out here kitten. Not as hard as I’d imagine you would want me to be” He laughed half-heartedly. _Pathetic git. Yeah that’ll get her right back in the mood_

“Oh I dunno. Sounds like the perfect opportunity to me” Her husky tone returning “Your just so big. With you like this, I can fit all of you into my tiny mouth. At least until you start to swell. Will you let me?”

He didn’t try and stifle his groan.

“Oh yes pet. All yours. Can do whatever you want. Best hurry though, already growin’”

“Good. Take everything off for me” She commanded. He chuckled darkly

“Thought I was in control of this bit pet. Not that I’m complaining…much”

“You are. You so are. Just want you naked for me” She moaned desperately

“In luck pet. As it happens, I sleep starkers. Not a stitch on me” She gasped pleasantly, and he imagined the look of surprised delight.

“Well now. Isn’t that convenient? I guess I should have guessed when you weren’t wearing any boxers. God your hot. Your so built for an author. All that muscle, those calves, Uggh those thighs of yours” She loudly moaned into the phone. “I can’t wait to touch you again for real. I can’t wait to feel my way up all that muscle and finally get a good look underneath your shirt”

“You’re not the only one pet. Meant what I said on the plane. Love to see a woman who takes care of herself, Works out regularly. The thought of those toned legs wrapped around me gets me so bloody hard. Damn shame I didn’t get a look at your pretty tits”

“Do you want one now? I gotta admit I’ve never sent that kind of photo before. It always felt so impersonal or embarrassing but hell Spike, I’m more than okay doing it for you.”

What an offering she gave him. A little piece of her that no one else got. A chance to take a first of hers and to get a glimpse of her luscious breasts. It should have been second nature to tell her yes, but he found himself hesitating.

“Maybe a different time pet. Nothing against you. Just so happens that I’d rather see ‘em for the first time when I’m physically with you. Everything after that is fair game o’course” He leered

“That’s really kind of romantic. Like your waiting for me”

“Cept we both know neither one of us is a blushin’ virgin. And my motivations are a bit more selfish then they appear. See I’m a selfish berk. Want the first time I see ‘em to be the same time I get to lick and suck at you until I make you cum.

She whined “God is that even possible?”

“Not for all women I don’t think. Sure as hell gonna give it a go though. Your body is so incredibly reactive, I have to try. I want to see you squirm” He cocked his head “Want to hear you squirm now. Want to hear you gasp and moan and cum for me. You still have your jimjams on kitten?”

“Uh huh”

“Do us a favor and take em off” He commanded huskily. “But not before telling me what dear Buffy wears to bed”

“Nothing too sexy I’m afraid. Short plaid cotton boxers and a white camisole. I usually get too warm when I sleep”

“Tosh. Your sexy in anythin’ you have on. For example. If I was to push you to your back and suck at your nipples through your flimsy shirt, it would be see through yeah? And since I’ve no idea what lies beneath, well then, I’ll just have to imagine in great detail the color of your perky nipples”

She let out a breathy gasp.

“Like that do you? Sensitive there? Let me do that again for you. Lap at you through the shirt, let the fabric rub against them, let friction build up before I pull it off you. I’ll go right back, suck one in, get it good and hard before switching to the other. Swirl my tongue around you, nibble a bit. I’ll make those sweet little bids pebble up for me. You feel that spark that travels down from them to your sweet clit. Your hard there aren’t you luv? Aching” He drew out the world, emphasized it and got the affect he wanted from her.

“Spike” She moaned

“Tell me what knickers your wearing” His voice gravely and desperate.

“Their white cotton with little red hearts. A thong that I got today at the store”

“For me luv?”

“All for you. Everything I got today was all for you”

“Run your hands down that tight little body of yours. Want you to feel how soft yours pretty skin is and how your muscle feels under your own touch. Want you to imagine that it’s me instead, my hands, my fingers moving lower and lower until I’m splayed out over you, hands wide and teasing at you through your tiny knickers. Just the pad of my index finger is barely stroking up and down your slit. Up…and down. That’s it baby. Feel me?”

“Oh god yes” She shuddered

“Good. Now take em off. Pull them down slowly for me. Your pretty pussy is my prezzie and I plan to unwrap you slowly. That’s it luv, nice and slow. Want to see you revealed to me little by little. Don’t be afraid to tease either. Brings out the worst in me. They off yet kitten? Good. Toss em aside and tell me how slick you are for me”

He heard the sound of cloth sliding down her silky skin, a muffled sort of rustle that had him yearning for more than just the sound. He wanted it to invade all of his senses. He wanted to be there with her, be the one pulling them down those lovely toned legs. Wanted to smell her intoxicating brew of pheromones, perfume and arousal. He heard the squeal of delight from her side followed by an intense hum of satisfaction and his prick jumped.

“I’m soaked” Her voice rumbled, sticky sweet like honey. He growled low in his throat, dark and possessive. He imagined her fragrant cunt, all warm and completely sodden for him, leaking in tasty rivulets with rich and tangy cum.

“Lemme hear it luv. Wanna hear how wet you are for me”

“H..Hear?” Her breathing shaky

“Put me close to your cunny luv. Never done this before either. Dunno if these things will pick it up but I gotta try. Need to hear you” He whispered desperately.

There was a moments pause, complete silence on the other line and he was bereft without vital indication. Hypoesthesic. Lost without sensual stimuli. He hung on every microsound that his speakers managed to pick up. And then? Ahh gods yes. Then he heard it. Pricked his ears forward like a hound when he heard the soft wet squishing sound of her fingers moving through the wetness. He groaned into the phone knowing full well she was unlikely to hear his appreciation, but he still felt the need to let out his rapturous pleasure her gift gave him.

Then he was drawn back to her. Could hear the sounds of her breath again as she panted into the phone. “How was that?” She asked, her voice strained.

“Bloody fantastic, a symphony to mortal ears. Gods but you are a wonder. Now touch yourself again, fingers over your clit. Do you feel me there now?”

“Yes” She whined “Yes I feel you. There’s no one like you”

“Bloody right there isn’t. Gonna take such good care of you little darling. Gonna spend hours making you writhe against my fingers, my cock”

“Tongue” She breathlessly interrupted. “God I need your tongue too”

“Tongue too o’course” He murmured huskily “Whatever you wish. At your command I am. ‘S that what your imagining now in that naughty head of yours? My fingers not enough luv? Want my tongue?

“Want it all” She gasped out, louder than before.

“Tell me what your imagining naughty kitten. Want every juicy detail”

She mewled into the phone, a sound that reverberated through his entire being, sweet bleedin music to his ears. He gave himself a long hard tug.

“I’m on my back and you’re in between my legs. I’ve got them hooked around the back of your neck and you’re at my pussy like yours starved for it. I can hear how hard your breathing, like you would suffocate if your weren’t buried down there. Your suckling my clit and you’ve got two fingers deep in me and it’s frustrating how slow you’re going now” She groaned

“Teasing you, innit? Want to bring you off at my own pace. Slowly. Controlled. Feels good dun ‘it? Just letting it build up?

She whined in frustration “I want to come now though. I’m getting so close”

“Patience little darling. Good things come to those who wait. Feel me there? Sliding in an out, **_invading_** your snug little channel. Feel good when I touch you like this?”

“Yes! She moaned “Yes! Spike! But I want more”

He chuckled darkly “Greedy little girl. Aren’t you? Very well. Add another finger luv” He urged. Her gasp of breath was intoxicating. He closed his eyes to picture how she looked right now, strewn out in her borrowed bed, atop the covers, flushed as she arced her hips against her own slender fingers.

“You’re so tight Buffy. Grippin’ my fingers so good like this. Can’t wait to feel you on my cock again. Have you wrapped around me. A man could die happy like this”

“Please” She was muttering under her breath. He heard it, faint at first, but then it fell over and over and over. A near silent chant “Please Spike. Please Daddy. Please, please” She begged into the phone, each reiteration becoming less and less coherent, desperate croaking whispers.

“Want to come that badly? Are you looking for my permission? You’ve been so good kitten. So good for Daddy. Let yourself go then. Stroke your little clit now the way you need it. Touch her and remember how you feel so you can teach me your pleasures luv. Don’t be afraid to let it out yeah? Want to hear you”

“Want you to come too” She rasped “Can you feel my first wrapped around your thick cock. Nice and tight, right under the head like you like”

“Oh Buffy. Christ yes, that feels good” He moaned.

“Stroke yourself” She ordered “Make it hard and fast, play with your piercings, like I would”

“Buffy, beautiful girl. What you do to me” He groaned as he gripped himself and did as he was told. In the back of his mind he chastised himself for getting so close so quickly. That he needed to make sure to last longer when they were physically together, or she might think less of him. But Christ, the way she made him feel right now. The power that she had over him without even trying. As he fucked himself to the metronome of her gasps and pants he felt his traitorous body work against him. He imagined moving in and out of her tight body, her slick and swollen cunt not wanting to let him go, the blissed face she made as he pounded into her.

He came with a shuddering moan, a low growl coming from his throat, arching his hips off his bed at the first spasms of his prick started, splattered his release across his abs and chest as he panted heavily. His own release must have triggered something for her because she began to ramble into the phone, sexy little words that seemed to aurally continue to milk his cock.

“Ahh! Spike. Oh god! Ohhhh Spike. Nnggh, Spike!” Her cries were rapturous. The sounds that she made, the lust and passion, so intense and so uniquely Buffy Summers as she came crying and mewling his name. She came with a resounding squeal of delight and he closed his eyes tightly to imagine the look on her face. The full body flush on her skin, the way she continued to writhe and wriggle. He took moments to breath. To bask in the feeling of a full body euphoria that came with the afterglow of good sex, to stop and listen to the panting coming from her side as she came down herself.

“God your hot when you come” Her voice breaking the silence, rough and shaky and sexy as hell. “I always tired picturing it when I was alone and touching myself. I wasn’t able to ever get it just right. I’d just imagine how it felt to have you in my hand again, in my mouth. That low growling you make or the purring that seems to happen when you let go. Oh god. The way you tasted”

“Christ luv. Gonna get me back up if you keep talkin’ like that”

She made some noncommittal sound and had to wonder if that was her intention. He would certainly be up for another round, just needed a mo’.

“Was that good? I’ve never done that before” She asked hesitantly

“Could have fooled me pet. It was bloody perfect. You’re a natural” He praised

They talked comfortably for a bit and Spike couldn’t help but feel as though he was still in a dream. Everything was so…right. So pleasant. There was nothing awkward about talking to her after amazing aural sex and their conversations carried on just as easily as the previous night and those times they talked on the plane. He had even managed to wrangle a few giggles from her. He told her a bit about the new novel he was working on and his experiences thus far in LA. She rebutted with her recent experiences at work and her travel destinations.

Due to their shared interest in written works and poetry, they lapsed into a lengthy discussion on the poets of today, those that he had grown up with and studied at while he was in school. For the most part, they enjoyed many of the same poets; Keats, Blake, Tennyson. The biggest difference between them came in the form of modern poetry, the use of free verse and the phenomena known as slam poetry. Perhaps it was a slight on his age, the near decade that separated them, that had him flummoxed as to why men and women performed poems in such as dissonant manner. The lack of rhyme he could understand, for it existed far before limericks and sonnets. Tales as grand as The Odyssey were written in dactylic hexameter after all with no sight of a rhyme within its pages.

It was purely the manner in which it was presented that he failed to understand. The way they recited their prose reminded him of the way William Shatner spoke with his strange blend of emphasis and pauses that lead to an arrhythmic flow. As a lover of punk music, full of arrhythmic measures and dissonant sounds, he didn’t understand why this form of poetry was so disdainful. It would make more sense that he would indeed prefer it but he much preferred the romantic poets like Blake and Keats who created works of art that filtered natural human emotion such as love and loss through verse of rhyme. That when absorbed by the human mind, created meaning and inspired emotion.

After a long winded rant, her return argument and a few laughs from the surprisingly academic Buffy, they tabled the discussion for fear of argument breaking out and settled into a quiet stretch where he merely listened to the comforting sound of her breathing.

This. This relaxed conversation that included a balance of intellectual stimulation and expression of emotion was what he was missing. This is what he had been craving all those years with Dru. That intimate connection that came with exploring the intelligence of a person’s mind and in turn have them want to know more about his.

“Hey Spike?” She spoke softly after those moments of silence.

“Yeah pet”

“Was that enough time? Do you think we could do that again?” She asked with a mischievously

His lips curled into a smile a mile wide. “Bloody right we can”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quotes from Touched


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More Phone Smut, Spike receives part of his punishment (he's a bad rude man) more fluffy talking and Spike speaks to his agent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realized I posted this a day late, but many assignments for my masters had to be turned in yesterday and I was working most of it as well. Here we'll finally get into more of the Dom/sub dynamic. As a PSA I want to note that there is a difference between BDSM and abuse to your partner, and that difference is consent. Consent goes both ways and both parties must be aware of their partner's limitations. This story is all about healing through the sexual acts of a BDSM scene (in the final chapter) and for me is also written somewhat as a fictional adaptation of my own personal experiences. PSA over! Please enjoy!

The next time he heard from her it was already after sundown on the western coast. A full day had passed. The night before he had wished her a good flight after their pleasant evening, which ran late after their second phone session lasted longer than anticipated when he felt the need to get her off more than once this time. In the meantime he got himself a great deal of kip, leaving him well rested.

He took advantage of his momentum and worked a bit on his novel and prepared some notes and talking points for the panel he was to attend tomorrow. All things that would have been neglected had he still been trapped in his room or at the bottom of a bottle. At the time, those feelings were the only ones he felt he had. He had withered away; mind, body and soul. So disgusted with himself that he chose to remain in the dark for the fear of truly seeing what he was becoming. And that seemed okay to him. Right. Like this was how his life was meant to be.

Now the thought of the pathetic shell that he had become made his lips curl in disgust. For over a year he tortured himself while everything in the world passed him by. For six months he let his anxiety and depression rule him into thinking that it was better that Buffy remembered the person he had been on the plane for fear she would not be interested in the man he truly was. What a fool he was.

Now he knew light. He felt it in her words, heard it in her voice at how happy she was to be with him. She was in a relationship with him because she wanted to be. What wonder that this goddess in mortal form chose him. His phone rang beside his bed, breaking him from seraphim thought when he saw it was her name on caller ID.

“Good evenin’ gorgeous” He answered smoothly

She scoffed “Do you always have to answer the phone as an 11 out of 10? Seriously? I can see it now. Some poor telemarketer calls you for some bogus insurance crap or weird thing-a-magig and you get them to buy something from **_you_**. Probably the entire collection of your novels or something”

“Don’t always answer the phone like that” He pouted “Only when it’s you”

“Well. You sure know how to charm a girl. I’m guessing your hoping to get lucky again later huh?”

“Hmm. Considering how much I always want you, that would be a logical guess. And because I’ll unfortunately be busy for the majority of tomorrow and want to spend as much time as I can with you beforehand”

“What’s going on tomorrow?”

“Panel at the convention center. The one downtown. My agent suggested it would be a good idea if I was back in the public face again after my hiatus. He’s right o’course, just been awhile since I was in the spotlight. ‘S pretty much an all-day event split up into hour long sessions with different topics about the books or movies. Or to my fans, an all-day event where they can ask me mostly personal questions and sometimes ones about the books” He drawled sardonically

“Sounds like the tragic life of a young hot author who essentially writes supernatural porn” She teased

“Yeah? See how you like it when some bird asks you explicit sexual questions in front of a crowd. Granted, they usually get kicked out after that, but then the next bird is even more ballsy than the last. D’u know that I once had some bint actually ask me the size of my prick? At a bloody conference for my books. What’s that bloody got to do with anythin?!”

She giggled. “Two bloody’s in once sentence. You must be upset” A full bodied laugh erupted from her chest and she snorted delicately at that. A sound that in this context should have infuriated him, but instead had his heart melt just a little.

“’S not bleedin funny. Honest to God. I love my fans. There’s been loads of days where there all I’ve ‘ad. Made things just a little bit brighter when I couldn’t see out of the dark” He paused remembering some of the letters he’d received in condolence. Little words of hope and reassurance. “But Christ! The amount of knickers I’ve received by post”

“Says the guy who stole my panties on the airline when I had a full shift to finish” She deadpanned

“That’s different” He dropped his voice down low “I wanted to take that pair because they came off your luscious arse and cunt. And you let me take em. Didn’t hear a word out of you otherwise”

“Your unfair with that whiskey smooth voice” He could almost hear the pout he knew she was making, and he made notice that she didn’t attempt to refuse him in the slightest

“Do you still have them?”

“Course”

There was a short pause, as if she was considering. “I could order you to give them back to me. They are mine after all”

“Then their yours. I couldn’t refuse an order from you. Wouldn’t want to disappoint”

“You like being the good boy then? You don’t want to get into trouble?”

“I live to please luv. In my bloody nature innit? Don’t fret though. Sure at some point you’ll be cross with me and I’ll be at the mercy of whatever delicious punishment you’ve brewed up. An I’ll be take it like the bad bad man I am. Claw my way back into your good graces and beg you for forgiveness” _Christ, doesn’t sound half bad when it’s put like that. Almost tempted to say fuck it and go against my own word now._ “But I’d much rather spend my nights and days on my knees in worship. Hang on every word, on every command. Do wha’ever I must to gratify my goddess”

“You’re already more than pleasing me” her voice filled with a happy relief, as she sighed pleasantly into the phone. “Which is a relief honestly. I’m so used to them being good that I haven’t really developed my punishments well. Oh I have a few, don’t you worry. But it’s something I still need to work on”

“Bet your bleeding perfect luv. Want to know why?”

“Because I’m me?” She answered sarcastically

“That too yeah. But was gonna say that it sound as though you’ve come up with your own punishments. Means you didn’t just take the obvious route and go bleedin barmy with the physical punishments like most domina’s. Lashing out with the whip and paddle and canin’ us like bloody sprogs” He paused, taking a moment to step out onto his bedroom balcony and light up a much needed fag. The recognition that over the past few days he’d been talking to this lovely girl that he’d failed to even crave one of the soddin things was a wonder in and of itself, considering his usual chain smoking habits. Bloody witchcraft it was.

“That’s not to say I don’t enjoy that sect of punishment. Spot o’torture does a man like me loads of good. Need it sometimes. Get off on it. Though I reckon you’ve already got that bit figured out”

“You weren’t exactly hiding it. You pretty much melted as soon as I bit your shoulder a little bit” She tittered

“Biting is one thing. Can be bitten all over but you’ll still not get a response quite like that. It’s the spot itself there for me. Just the thought of the lips of a lover there, cradled at that junction of neck and shoulder, breath against my skin, tongue against my pulse. My Achilles heel that is. Bloody hard as hails jus’ thinkin’ about it”

Her little gasp only served to fan the flames even more. He didn’t think it was possible to ever not be hard around this women with all the scrumptious sounds that came from her.

“So what makes you hot kitten? What little piece of heaven makes you fall to you dimpled knees”

“I uh. I dunno if I have a spot quite like that. I mean I know it feels good on my neck too and my nipples and clit. But those all seem obvious”

“Pity your former's didn’t give you the time of day. You’ve got one. But it’s better this way, to be the one who will find them for you. I’ll spend hours exploring you and love every minute of it. We’ll find where it makes you scream”

She was quiet for a moment, the silence permeated only by the faint sound of a zipper being drawn down, the rustling of clothing and the running of water in the background.

“So I seem to have a good grasp on the things you like. So what are your no-goes? Oh, and I guess this is a good time to bring up your safe word. And I guess come up with one for me” She giggled “I’ve only had to do this once and it’s been a while. Normally I don’t let anyone else take control but your different. I don’t think I could not want you in control sometimes”

“Tend to stay basic when it comes to safe words, none of that poncy frilly stuff. Red and yellow will do me fine. As far as hard limits, anything involving urination, defecation, fisting and excessive degradation” He rattled off, counting on his fingers.

“Degradation? Like public humiliation?”

“As well as name calling. Don’t mind some as such, bad boy is fine. The way you use it is quite arousing. But…” He trailed off. Was this going happen all of the time? Him launching into his sordid past with Dru? It had truly scarred him both mentally and physically, and the hold she seemed to have on him still remained when it came to certain things. Though he’d had no contact with her in over a year, her dark claws still found their way into his head, his skin, his heart. Rending and shredding in those moments he still found himself alone in the dark. But he didn’t want to keep bringing her up. Didn’t want her to keep looming like a shadow over their relationship, a stormy rain cloud attempting to block out his sunshine. He resolved to bring her up less. He didn’t want Buffy to think the bint was still on his mind, even though he knew her clever enough to figure that out all on her own.

“But?” She edged in, still hanging on his every word

“Right…sorry. Mind went elsewhere for a 'mo. What I was going to say was that Dru had a very nasty habit of calling me some names. Names I would rather not repeat. Suppose it did a number on my impressionable psyche” He said with a nervous titter.

“Oh Spike” She breathed. A soft little sigh. “As long as you’re okay with good boy and bad boy and those don’t make you feel uncomfortable. That’s more than okay with me. Seeing the way you responded to those was more than enough”

Eager to navigate away from the unpleasant feeling that still managed to settle in the pit of his stomach, he steered the conversation away from himself.

“And you luv? Your hard limits? Soft ones? Safe word?”

“Well” She spoke hesitantly “I haven’t really experience a whole lot of things, though I’ve read a fair bit about them. I don’t think I’m a fan of any of the things you mentioned either, so I’d say they’re probably hard limits as well. I don’t mind a little physical pain, but I don’t think I’m nearly on the same level as you. A big one for me is no visible markings because of my job. I guess hickeys are alright…She muttered coquettishly. “I’ve only had one safe word and it was avocado. I’ll leave it at that” She spoke rapidly in embarrassment

“Got plenty of time and room to explore luv. You let me and I’ll give you everything I have to offer. Mind, body and bloody soul if you want the damned thing. You know you’ve got a willin slave”

The result was a low and sultry chuckle, a sound that had his blood thrumming.

“Oh I know. Your such a good boy after all” She stressed and all that buzzing blood went straight south and he swelled with it, aching and stone hard for her in a matter of seconds, her words working over him like some black magicks.

“Anything for you goddess” The response flowing from him, smooth like whiskey, as natural as breathing for him. He heard the shuffle of movement.

“Anything? How busy are you now? Have any time to play?” She said with feigned innocence, knowing full well that he had more work to do but despite that, he would fall to his knees to satisfy her first. That he would never tell her no, especially after just giving him praise,

“Have all the time in the world for you goddess. You every need is mine to fulfill. Anything you want of me. Any time you crux that wicked finger of yours. I’m wholly yours”

“Good boy” She purred “I’m splayed out and naked in my bed” Ahh, so that was the zipper he heard.

“Want me to take care of you darling? What is it that you want of me?” He imagined her stretched out against her sheets like a tiny blonde angel, all suntanned skin and womanly curves. In that moment he thanked his lucky stars that he had the money to buy what he wished at a moment’s notice, to be able to give her anything. He wanted to buy an entire palettes worth of sheets in every color he could think of so that when she laid against them he could see what shades and hues in combination with her flawless sun kissed skin would make her glow like the goddess she was. A kaleidoscope of her natural beauty.

Would cream bring out those golden locks, fanned around her to form a halo and make her look an angel? Would forest green bring out the shimmer of her skin, like golden light flickering through a tranquil forest? Would royal purple bring out the dazzling jade of her eyes and made her look the queen that she was?

“I want you to eat me out” She commanded “I want to hear the same passion and ferocity that I remember from on the plane when you were kneeling before me. I want that filthy mouth of yours to tell me everythin you’re doing while I get myself off to your sexy voice. I want to come, and I want you to promise me that no matter how hard you are for me you won’t touch yourself”

He sucked in a shuddering breath at the assertive nature of her tone. At the euphoric feeling of receiving his first command from her.

“Promise goddess”

“Good boy. Don’t keep me waiting”

“Of course not. Gonna start with a snog though, can’t get enough of those sweet lips of yours. All the passion and warmth that come from such a tiny thing. You’ve never failed to set me on fire”

“We’ve only kissed a couple of times”

“Doesn’t matter. Your kisses aren’t something a man can easily forget. I don’t think you full you fully understand the power you have over me”

“Tell me then. I want to hear everything”

“I get lost there” He murmured “In how I feel. Can feel the heat and your desire in the way your tongue moves against mine. Like your begging me for another kind of dance without the use of words. And I understand language without words luv, read it well. On the outside its hard and fast and I’m scrabbling for purchase to keep up with you. But on the inside I’m in this calm space where all I can feel is you, feel you beneath me, your scent” He spoke wistfully, remembering what it was like to have her pressed against him. Hips flush and concealed breasts tight against his own still clothed chest. The smell of her all around him. Citrus, mint and vanilla and that musky perfume with floral notes. All of which had him dizzy for her when he breathed her in.

“Is that all you’re going to do? Kiss me?”

“No luv, no. Just give a man a tic to just…bask” He breathed in deep, the phantom scent of her wrapping around him and he almost instinctually wrapped a hand around his bobbing cock, eager to relieve the mounting pressure before remembering her command.

“There would be a fair bit more kisses, but I’ll work my way down now. Down your lovely neck, nibbling too at the chalice of your throat and shoulders. Down, down to your sternum and over the fluttering of your heart. Over the swell of one pretty little titty and the peak of one perfect nipple. Red rose? Or Dusky pink?” He thoughtfully posed

She went to speak but he cut her off.

“No" He panted No, don’t tell me. Want to discover you all on my own. I’ll find out soon enough. I’m going to lap at you now, suckle you gently like a babe until your squirming under me. Get a rise out of you before I switch to the other and do the same. If I nibble you here, I wonder, what sounds will you make for me?”

“Spike” She mewled, the heady sound of her pleasure drifting over the phone.

“Delicious” He purred “Touch yourself there luv. Set those lovely manicured fingers to both and swirl em round and round like my tongue’ll do”

He reveled in the near silent ‘pop’ of her fingers leaving her mouth and the following ‘ohhs’

“Fast or slow? Which would you prefer right now?”

There was a whine from her side, as if the decision was the hardest thing she’d ever had to make, and the thought chuffed him. Was she already that out of her bloody mind that she was reduced to a nonverbal mess?

“Slow” She whimpered

“Want to be teased again do you? Fine by me. I’ll have you begging for me before long”

“Spike” Her voice but a breathy sigh

“Still touchin’ yourself baby?”

“Yes”

“Gonna suck you in again. Get those finger nice an’ wet yeah? Circle em around again as I lick you up”

“Your mouth is so hot, so wet” She moaned

“Just like your glorious cunt is when your wrapped around my prick” A long moan tumbled from her lips at that

“Go lower luv, under the swell of your perfect tits, across that toned tummy of yours”

She giggled in-eloquently

“’S so funny?”

“You sound all hot and bothered over my stomach of all things. I just find it odd”

“More than just tits and arse that drive a fella wild. You chits go barmy over a bloke with six pack abs yeah? Same thing innit?”

“I guess I never looked at it that way”

“Told you as much before. Always loved a woman that takes care of herself. Bit ‘a muscle shows she’s strong” He growled low in his throat, dropping his voice an octave like he knew she loved “And I bloody well love strong”

“Oh god Spike. I need you to go lower”

“Begging? Or is that a command?”

“Whatever gets you there faster” Her voice gaining a desperateness.

“Yes goddess” He returned, voice silky smooth that earned him another shudder. “Trace the path of my lips then. Down, down over the luscious arch of a hipbone. ‘Nother hot zone for me on your lovely form luv. And ‘fore you ask, dunno what it is, just love that swell of bone. I’m covering it with tiny butterfly kisses now. Can you feel them? Fluttering over your tight skin? Blunt teeth dragging across bone”

“Eee! She shrieked “That tickles!”

“And you are bloody adorable. Makes me want to stop what I’m doing and see where else I can touch you so that you keep making those delightful sounds”

“You’d better not” She grumbled “I don’t exactly find tickling super sexy”

“Oh…pouty” He teased “Look at that lip. Gonna get it”

“You can’t even see me you jerk” She spoke with the same whine in her voice even though she tried to dial it back.

“Don’t need to see you. Can hear it plenty. You forget who you’re talking to. But I won’t tease you anymore. Down, down again sweetheart. Be a pet and wet those lovely fingers for me. Suck ‘em good and hard”

He expected the quiet pop as the two damp digits left her perfect mouth but instead moaned his pleasure when he heard the quiet squelching of her fingers moving through her wetness.

“Christ luv, so bleedin wet for me. Never gonna get over how fast it happens. Go on and spread it around and spread those lovely legs for me. Are you comfortable sweetheart?”

“Yes” She groaned out

“Good. Now touch yourself kitten. Rub you clit, yes, like that, just like I would baby. Nice and slow. Can you feel me? Such sweet strokes to your desperate little pearl”

“I…I can feel you” She rasped, all air seeming to leave her body

“Feel good?”

“Yes” Her voice desperate. Her breathing becoming more erratic “Oh yes”

“There’s a girl. Such a good girl. Make yourself good and wet then yeah? So slippery you are now. Such a pretty mess. Drippin’ all down your slit, your thighs, makin’ a mess of your sheets. That all for me?”

“Mmm hmm”

“Who? Who’s it all for?” He demanded. He was a greedy bastard. He knew what she’d say, knew that it was his name that would fall from her lips like a desperate prayer. But after feeling so lost, so cast aside after months of unreciprocated love and passionless fucking he was desperate for some modicum of recognition. Some praise. Some reminder that he was still worth something to someone. That he could still inspire so much lust.

“It’s you Spike” She moaned “It’s all you”

“’S right kitten. Now wrap those heavenly thighs around my head. Want you to ride my face while I fuck your quim with my tongue. Slide those slender fingers down, down to your tight little hole. No. Don’t go in yet. Tease yourself first luv, just like I’d be doing. Have you learned nothing from being with me? Draw it out. Let it build. Feel me touching you? Making your body twitch and writhe. Go back to your clit too luv, don’t leave her out. Don’t make her lonely”

He noted the hitch in her breath exactly when she swiped over her aching button and imagined his tongue curling around her, moaning and panting with her at the same time. It was almost as if he was there. The urge to go and wrap around his jutting erection was hard to ignore now. _She’d never really know_ the devil in his mind coaxed. _Can always lie about it mate, be a good boy_.

Another breathy moan from her broke his thoughts. Shook away the demon. No. No. He ** _was_** a good boy. Despite the fact that her noises of pleasure had him about ready to pop off at any moment, he would not disobey her. Breath in. Breath out. This wasn’t about him after all. All for her it was. The sun touched sylph some thousands of miles away and connected by the miracle of modern technology.

Conjured visions of those bronzed thighs, plush but deadly, muscles rippling as they flexed in time with the thrusting of his fingers, his tongue, his cock. She was wide open for him, pink and swollen, her slicked up sex leaking for him.

“My tongue’s at your cunt baby. Lemme in” He rumbled; voice smooth as silk. “Want all your honey, you smell so bloody good. My golden goddess, my fragrant blossom, my Ripe. Juicy. Fruit. Spill all that sweet syrupy nectar for me”

“It’s all yours Spike” She mewled “I’m all yours. Please. Spike”

“Begging now. Oh I like that. Like it a lot. Do it again hen. Beg for me. Beg for my tongue”

“Please” She sobbed “Oh Spike, Oh please. Need you inside me”

“Well…since you asked so nicely. Slid em deep kitten, but don’t forget about your clit”

“Ohhhh” She groaned loudly, the wet smacks of her lithe fingers moving from her pearl down her slippery labia and across the smooth hairless skin of her outer lips, plunging into her sodden core was rapturous music to his ears. She developed a rhythm, one that he dared not interrupt for the loss of her pleasure or wrath of her ire. The way she breathed and grunted and gasped into the phone let him know she was completely devoted to chasing her high and he let himself be dragged along with her. Put himself in the place of her fingers. Followed her step for step as a spellbound partner in her erotic phantom tango, letting her lead as they danced between vision and reality.

Walking in worlds and obeying ardent tempos that the rest of the world was hapless to be a part of. It wasn’t long until she was already at the edge of her peak. The volume and fervor of her moans and cries of pleasured increases so much so that he could still hear her even though he was sure she’d gone so far to let her phone fall away from near her ear.

It didn’t stop him from whispering to her, just in case she could still hear him. Maybe she had him on speaker after all. “That’s it. Give it all to me baby. Give it all to your Spike. So close aren’t you? Can hear it. Can feel your cunt flutter all around me. Let go baby. Let go. Spike’s got you, dove”

“Spike” She whimpered

“What is it kitten?”

“Need” She gasped out desperately. He chuckled low in his throat.

“Know what you need baby. Want it fast and hard now don’t you? Wrap those legs tight around me baby, push in real deep, add another finger for me. Want you to ride my face good and hard now. Bloody brilliant you are”

“Oh Spike. Oh god. Yes, yes, yes, yes!” She cried out, each ‘yes’ becoming louder and louder. She became quiet for a moment, save for the hitch of her breath and the frantic sound of her fingers flicking against her slicked up clit before a muffled sob burst from her and she was coming. And fuck. So was he. Didn’t feel it under the bottled up pressure and the tingling all came to him in a rush, felt his bollocks clench up tight out of nowhere and bloody well popped off with a long drawn out grunt of relief as his unexpected orgasm overtook him completely. The gravity defying nature and subtle upward curve of his cock sending waves of warm cum splattering his torso and chin along with his sheets around him.

In all his days, he didn’t think he’d ever come like this without any physical contact. It certainly hadn’t happened before. He basked in the body numbing feeling of post orgasm and listened to the mixture of moans and contented signs coming from her end. Gods he loved hearing her blissed out like this. He couldn’t wait to see it again in person. Christ Buffy was a wonderful creature.

And then reality hit him. Fuck. Buffy. Oh fuck, would she know that he’d just came? _Even if she knows, you can easily lie mate. How the bloody hell would she ever find out? You’re not even on the same continent._ Well he couldn’t bloody lie to her. No. It wasn’t an option. He would tell her of course, after a few moments to just listen and relax. After a few moments of comfortable silence, her breathing evened out and he heard her voice, soft and raspy.

“God Spike, you’re a wonder. I’ve never gotten off as much as I do with you and you’re not even physically here” She sighed wistfully “I feel like I should be lighting up a cigarette or something”

“Wouldn’t mind one myself right about now” He agreed, fumbling for his pack. At the sound of a lighter she spoke up.

“You smoke?”

He drew in a deep drag, letting the smoke settle in his lungs until he felt the buzz of nicotine through his every vein. “Yeah. Problem?”

“I mean, it’s kinda icky. But as long as you don’t do it indoors or directly around me I guess its fine. You might wanna work on quitting though. Those things will kill you”

He mumbled a non-committal response. If she wasn’t going to force him to give them up then he bloody well wasn’t going to.

They lapsed into another silence in which he was just beginning to count his lucky stars when her voice, taking a disciplinary tone, broke it.

“Spike?”

“Yes goddess”

“You came. Didn’t you?” Her voice cautious but knowing. Even if he did want to lie to her so he could continue to be her good boy, even if he thought his so called silver tongue could get him out of it, the way she sounded now, he was dead sure that she was already too aware of his insubordination.

“Yes goddess” He answered clearly. It was his fault after all. He was the one who was unable to control himself. Who assured her that he could follow her orders. As disappointed with himself as he was, he was impressed with how she was taking control, that she was aware of him and the sounds he made during his peak ,that she easily identified his misgivings. There was a childish part of him that wanted to scream out that it wasn’t in fact his fault that he’d come as he hadn’t technically disobeyed her. He never actually touched himself during the entire scene. Her display of wanton lust was just so overpowering and he missed the physicality of being with her so much that he apparently didn’t need the physical stimulation to bring himself off.

But he waved that away. She wasn’t interested in his pleadings or the reasons why, only that he’d done wrong.

“I thought so. The sounds you make have been ingrained into me now. I’d be hard pressed to forget them. So. Did it feel good? Stroking your pretty cock against my wishes? Did it excite you? Thinking you could get off without me finding out?”

He held his tongue, for the creeping malice in her tone seemed to chase away his voice. After a few moments he could almost hear the frown she made when he didn’t not immediately answer.

“Speak” She commanded

“It pains me to say I disobeyed you, goddess. I never want to disappoint you”

“Then why did you?

“Wasn’t on purpose” He spoke warily

“Oh? So your saying your dick just stroked itself then?”

Shudders rolled through him at her accusatory tone. Christ, she really had taken to this. Even though he was in trouble and faced an unknown punishment, he was more than aroused. Already half hard and only held back by his damned human refractory period.

“Didn’t touch myself” He spoke, and she scoffed. “Swear it. Wouldn’t lie to you goddess. You don’t have to believe me, can do whatever you want with me, but I didn’t do it. I was so bloody turned on from listening to you, to hearing your reaction to me and how badly you wanted me that I sorta just…”He fumbled. It was kind of embarrassing now that he thought about it. A grown man like him, pushing thirty “…popped off like a lad” He grumbled guiltily.

_She’s sure to love that. Nothing a girl wants to hear more than that eh? Bloody miracle that I lasted as long as I did on the plane what with bein’ liquored up an all. Hopefully she doesn’t begin to think I’m some two minute man and regret this whole thing._

“So what your saying is that you came without touching yourself in any way and purely from auditory sensation alone?”

“Yes goddess. Sorry to disappoint. I’m eager to accept whatever punishment you see is fittin’”

“Oh Spike. I’m going to enjoy this. Very much so. I am disappointed in you, for not doing what I said. But fuck! That’s probably the hottest thing I’ve ever heard” She groaned

“Hot? But goddess” He stammered

“Don’t goddess me. Just Buffy now. Seriously Spike, think about it. How would you feel if I told you that I came from just listening to your voice and imagining you were there?”

“On top of the bloody world. Beyond chuffed”

“Well that’s how I’m feeling too. You bring out so much power in me William. I can’t stress enough how much my life has changed for the better because of you. Moment’s like this only seem to solidify it”

“Careful pet. With great power, comes great responsibility”

“Huh?”

“Uncle Ben says it to Peter” He stated matter o factly, resulting in dead silence on the other side.

“’S from a bloody comic book” He grumbled

“Look at you” She cooed “My big closet nerd”

“Oh come off it. I majored in the literature of romantic poets and study language, mostly dead ones at that, for fun. There is no bleedin closet”

“In any case, references and closets aside, you coming sans hands, pussy or mouth—”

“—Or feet, or thighs or breasts” He purred salaciously

The sharp breath of intake of breath let him know that she’d failed to think about those possibilities. _Still have so much to teach the girl. What I wouldn’t give to be sliding between those luscious tits, give the girl a proper facial._

“Right…you coming without touching yourself if incredibly sexy. Your incredibly sexy. How I even managed to catch you attention is beyond me”

“Hey!” He interrupted

“Hush” She hissed “I mean it. Beautiful body and I’ve only really seen half. Beautiful mind; smart, degree having, book writing. And a stunning personality. Your also a hell of an ego boost”

“Your too kind Buffy. I’m just a man who wants to take care of his lady best he knows how. Want to do right by you. And I’ve already done you wrong”

“Tsk. Tsk. Tsk. Easy to fix Spike. You’ve been in this position before right? You like being a sub so I’m sure you have your own toys and equipment”

“Course” He agreed “Still gotta unpack em’. Only been doin’ bits at a time and still have more rubbish to sift through. Was plannin’ on working on that room the day after my conference”

“Room?! You have a whole room’s worth!?” She balked “People actually do that? I thought it was just a really dramatized movie or novel thing”

“Certainly not everyone does. It’s more those who are active participants in the lifestyle that have ‘em. Dru and I had a makeshift one in our old college flat which back then was really just our bedroom to be honest. It wasn’t until I bought my first mansion where we had actually rooms dedicated to things”

“And…you have enough rooms to have another one now?”

“Well…yeah. Bought myself a comfortably sized mansion when I moved to the States. Seems the City of Angels has no short supply of them. And being’s as I have a surplus of rooms and none of them have to be an art studio or a room for dollies or other such nonsense that the mad bint had to have…” He trailed off. A pang of regret ran through him at the thought of Drusilla again. “You of course can do whatever you wish here as I only need a few for me’ self” _Stupid buggering git. With talk like that you’re going to make her run for the hills. What kind of berk offers a lady a number of rooms in his flat the day after they’ve become a romantic item? Should just ask her when she’d want to get married and how many kids she’d want. Blasted idjit._ He cursed to himself.

“Your offering me rooms? As in plural mms-z?” She gaped emphasizing the plural “I could have my own dress up room! Full of clothes!” Each add on to her sentence getting higher and higher in pitch, sounding like she was close to salivating by the end.

“Well…yes. I had intended that, if you wished to stay with me. Gotta forgive a bloke for being so bold and assuming it would be immediately. My last relationship things moved rather fast and it’s what I’m used to. Should know better that not every bird is the same”

“Hold that thought. I think my heart is palpitating. My own clothes room William! My own clothes room! A whole room. For clothes!”

“And plenty of them to put yourself in dove”

“You can’t see it, but I’m making a ‘really?’ face at you right now. Like a sarcastic one”

“Can picture it quite well actually. Pretty green eyes flashing daggers at me. Lemme guess…”

“—You don’t want me to buy you everything”

“—I don’t want you to buy me everything” They both spoke simultaneously

“Right. I have my own clothes and my own money. I can buy myself whatever I want, and I don’t need to be bought out. I don’t want to be a kept woman”

“Oh enough with the girl power bit” He huffed “This isn’t me being a misogynist or wanting you to respect the patriarchy or sum all. Just want you to have whatever you want. I’ve got money luv. I certainly don’t spend much of it on myself. I want to spend it on the people I care about” He bargained.

She sighed, conceding. “We can talk about it later. We’ve got the time. Right now though, you still have a punishment to receive” And just like that she was back to business. The girly voice had been dropped and replaced with a scolding tone that had him both wary and quivering in anticipation.

“Yes of course goddess. I hadn’t forgotten”

“Good. Because you’ve been a bad boy” She paused a moment “When’s the soonest we can see each other?”

“Soon as your back in LA. I can pick you up from LAX and bring you straight here”

“Hmm” She hummed, considering. “I’ll be home the day after tomorrow and off for a few because of this stretch here before my next couple flights. As long as you don’t mind taking me back to my apartment first so I can get some things, then I’d love for you to come pick me up”

“Will your car be okay on the airport lot until you go back?”

“A perfectly logical question. Well you see…Buffy and automobiles…not really mixy things” She stammered bashfully

“Can’t drive?”

“I can! I totally can! I passed my test. I just…I choose not to if I don’t have to. And normally I don’t! Caus'a Willow or Faith or other friends”

He chuckled

Hey, don’t you laugh at me! I bet you don’t drive around here much. Mr. Drive on the wrong side of the road where I’m from”

“ ** _We_** drive on the right side of the bloody road. It’s you Yanks that’s gone and bolloxed it all up. And I do drive here, not often mind you, but it’s mainly due to the bloody awful traffic. Don’t trust California’s diligent drivers to not fuck up my vehicles. So yeah. Mostly get ferried around”

“Aha! See! Fancy rich guy who doesn’t drive himself. I’m not wrong. I bet you own like fifteen crazy expensive sports cars too” She huffed frantically

“Uhh. Just the one actually. Viper. Don’t drive it much though. Other is a ’59 DeSoto Fireflight. Classic American Car. She’s my baby she is”

“Oh. Sorry. I guess I have this crazy notion that all rich guys are all the same. Butlers, servants and a whole bunch of fancy materialistic things”

“Had that when me mum was still alive. But when she passed, no need for such things. Besides, you should see my library”

She scoffed “Your money _would_ be in books”

“Never said I was traditional” He said shrugging

“Always the rebel, my little punk” She spoke fondly

“Oi! Not so little if you recall” He fumed

“No. I don’t suppose you are” She murmured huskily “And you…” She drawled “Have been keeping me very off topic. We can talk more about other things in a bit. In fact, I want to learn so much more about you. But I still haven’t given you your punishment. Are you stalling me?”

“No goddess” He answered obediently _Though I’m bloody well sure that you’re the one who led the topic off track, little bitch_

“Good. Now you said you did have a collection of your own toys”

“All at your disposal. Anything of mine is yours”

“Also good to know. Tell me Spike. Do you own a cock cage?”

He couldn’t help the satisfied groan that escaped his lips. _Definitely a fitting punishment, whatever it is you have cooked up. Seems you know quite a bit more than you let on little love_

“Problem?” She questioned, authority in her tone that was brought down by just a touch of insecurity. Like she wasn’t fully sure of herself. _Can’t have that. Want the girl to thrive. There’s more talent in her itty bitty pinkie than most of the trulls I’d seen before meeting Hara combined. She needs to know, needs to understand how bleedin wonderful she is. What a right fierce domina she truly can be_

“Never” His voice solid and resolute “I’ve got one goddess. A special one. You’ll like it”

“I guess I don’t have to ask if you’ve used it before then”

“Was a favorite of Dru’s. Wanted to make sure her dog was leashed up and couldn’t play with the other bitches” He tried to answer as evenly as possible. He tried to not let his self-degradation and bitterness to come through. Not when he was here with Buffy; someone he knew cared about his mental health and well being.

“A favorite of mine too. Not for the same reasons though. I’m doing this to punish you yes, but not because I think you’re likely to play elsewhere. I know you Spike; I know what you’re like. I know what you’ve been through. No. I’m selfish in a completely different way. You’ll wear the cage until we see each other because _I_ want to be in control of your next orgasm since you took it from me today. You disobeyed me. Tell me Spike, I thought you wanted to be a good boy for me”

“I do goddess. I do. Want to be a good boy. _Your_ good boy”

“But you couldn’t control yourself. Even when I asked. Could you?”

“No” He murmured sadly “Forgive me” What a terrible feeling it was to have her disappointed in him. The subtle tone of her voice that she’d expected more from him. The uneasy feeling in his throat and stomach; a nervous rolling that predated getting physically sick.

“All will be forgiven after you’ve received your punishment”

A small relief, but it would be at least a day until he would be back in her good graces. Two days with the knot in his gut that was already twisted up. He’d gone longer with this feeling in the past, but at the moment he couldn’t remember a time where he felt this bad. _Two days and I’ll make this right. Do my best to never make you do this again._

“Thank you. Shall I go fetch it now? Want to see proof that I’ve got it?”

“Not necessary. If you say you have it then you do. I do want you to be wearing it by tonight and I most definitely want to see you put it on”

“Done. I’ll start hunting for it now”

“It’s okay Spike. Please. I have to go in a bit and I’d rather talk to you now when I have your full attention. You can look for it later while I’m 30,000 feet in the air”

“Where to?”

“New York City to Minneapolis, with a layover in Ontario” She said in a bored tone.

“Quite the flight. Can I expect another call when you land in the Great White North?” Hoping his voice didn’t sound overly hopeful. The whimper that preceded her words was all he needed.

“I wish, but I think I’ll maybe only have time for a quick text session. It’s not much of a layover, only an hour or so and I have to help reset the plane” Disappointment filled him, but he took comfort that she seemed just as upset about it as him.

“Better than nothing. I’ll take any scrap of time I can with you and cherish every moment” He vowed which was followed by another girlish whine.

“You’re going to make it so difficult to be away from you”

“Apologies pet, not my intentions of course. Guess some of my separation anxiety is rubbing off on you. Probably not for the better either. Just like talking to you”

“I do too” She responded happily. “It’s been a long time since I’ve been excited to just…talk to someone. A male someone. But speaking of talking. Don’t think you can hide from me”

“Hide?” He asked hesitantly “Love I’m not sure—”

“Don’t think I didn’t catch it” She interrupted; her voice resolute; knowing. “The way you sounded when you said it was a favorite of Dru’s”

His voice caught in his throat, his retort that it was fine, to let it alone, dying instantly at his lips. A war within him between the shame of letting such emotions through _Seems like nothing is going your way tonight, is it mate?_ And the modicum of pride that this girl could already read him so well without having seen him. Her voice instantly softened.

“Bad experience? Should I?—”

“—It’s not the same” He cut off “You’re not like her Buffy. You’re not cruel like that. More than that. I trust you”

She paused slightly

“You too” She murmured gently, sighing “I trust you too”

He felt his chest tighten as an overwhelming feeling of adoration and conviction flared through him. Trust, simple a concept as it was, was something he could never manage with Dru. She loved him, he was sure that she did in her own strange way and that had been good enough for him that he wanted to make it forever between them. But of all the years they spent together, he was never able to convince himself that he trusted her. And it got worse as the years went on, the epiphanic moment being the day she’d introduced him to Darla and Liam and announced her need to be involved with them again.

He was never a traditionalist when it came to his view on relationships. His childhood model was growing up with a single mother and no other brothers or sisters, hardly the perfect nuclear family model. While in school, being an art student had exposed him to a myriad of alternative lifestyles. So while the idea of an open relationship among the four of them wasn’t appalling, as it satisfied his own need for physical intimacy and bonding, he had always considered himself to be a traditional monogamous type of bloke. He wanted to love and dote upon a woman, raised on genteel and romantic type ideas instilled his mum, despite his rough and wicked appearance.

Drusilla’s need to be sexually intimate with the others was a mental slap in the face that warned him that there may be something deeper here. But he followed her lead, did everything she asked of him, even if he hadn’t particularly wanted it. Half of the time his princess was so stark raving mad when it came to their games and would either forget about his limits or acknowledge them only to forsake them anyway. He couldn’t count the number of times where he’d had to wait until one of his staff wandered in so they could let him out after he’d gone missing for a few days, chained up and forgotten out of ire or boredom by his ripe little plum.

And despite their knowing glances and worried expressions, he never said anything bad about her. He did everything he could to stay in her good graces, to be her darling prince, her love, her good boy. Not once had Dru ever told him she trusted him. Hearing it from Buffy’s sweet lips, the feeling he got was overwhelming, like being stroked one too many times after he’d already bloody come. Over sensitized and shaking with both relief and exhaustion. For one such as her, with the cards she’d been dealt, her berk of a father leaving to adulterate and crack their family down the middle. The ghost of her unfaithful tin solider acting as a dark shadow that followed her around. He would have completely understood if the girl couldn’t find it in herself to trust anyone, let alone another man for the rest of her life.

But here she was surprising him at every turn, throwing unexpected jabs at him that nearly knocked him to the ground. The love this woman gave, the strength she bore, Christ she was a hell of a woman.

“You okay there?” The pleasant sound of her voice breaking through his thoughts. He could almost see the smile he knew she was wearing. That little one that just quirked up the corner of her lips.

“Sorry luv, gotta’ forgive a bloke. What with being blindsided an’ all”

“Splainy?”

He sighed heavily and she must have noticed the tremble in his breath, though try as he might to hide it, because her response made him think of someone speaking to an abused animal, gentle and coaxing.

“Spike? You okay?”

“More than. Just caught me off guard. Buffy. Luv” He fumbled “Christ. ‘S just….never had that before. Trust, that is. Pretended that I did with Dru, to soothe myself, quell the voices that told me something was wrong. It wasn’t her fault entirely. I know that. Course I bloody know that. Can’t blame everything on her, not when she was a right sack of hammers most days. It just wasn’t in her nature. But I tried to believe anyways. Never once heard her return the words though. Told them to her all the time in hope’s she’d at least parrot them back but…” He trailed off

At the time, that would have been good enough for him. It would have been enough to calm the wounded beast within, to suppress that primal part of himself that insisted that his mate was his alone, that she did not mean to cause harm to his already battered heart. That she knew, despite his outward hard appearance, that the piercings and duster and dark make-up were only little bits of armor. That the he was still the same frail William on the inside, the one she’d fallen for in a literature class so long ago.

“Fuck” He mumbled “Tearing up like a soddin ninny. Shouldn’t have to hear me like this. **_And_** I’ve gone on about Dru again. **_And_** deflected from your punishment. Christ what a ponce”

“Spike? Baby?” She chimed pensively. The satisfaction that came from her pet name usage was almost enough to erase every negative feeling flowing though his body like she was his own personal dream catcher. He was instantly taken back to six months ago on the plane when she’d called him baby during their passionate fucking. A satisfied warmth, one that came with pleasant memories and sexual revelation bloomed inside his entire being. He craved to be cherished like that. To be close enough to someone, anyone, but especially her.

“You don’t have to hide yourself. You’re not a…ninny, or whatever that means. You don’t need to pull that macho crap with me. I got enough of that from Riley. The same man who said men shouldn’t cry, that it was **_his_** job to take care of me. That women shouldn’t be forward because it makes her a slut. I don’t want you to be like him. Moreover. Trust is about honesty right? I want you to express your feelings. I need us to communicate and be honest with each other. I’m not her and she’s not you. They’re only shadows now, ghosts” It almost sounded like she was going to cry herself “They can’t hurt us anymore”

“Buffy” He whispered in awe, no longer ashamed for the tears that made tracks down his face. And still she continued.

“I’m happy that you trust me, and I’m so grateful that you’ve given me a reason that I trust you. It’s a big deal for me too Spike. I didn’t think I was ever going to be able to say that again”

When he finally managed to control his wretched whinging and swallow the lump that seemed to make itself permanent in his throat he spoke again, voice hoarse and scratchy. “You’re a bloody marvel” He said “Never believed in fate or religion, but to think that Id’a never met you if not for some last minute decision to still take the honeymoon I wasn’t going to have…I could have said sod it all, stayed in London and drowned myself in a bottle. Nearly bloody did. If I had done that, I wouldn’t have been on that plane. Never would have felt the touch of your light, your rays of goodness, of kindness that warmed me enough and thawed the bitter ice around my heart. Never would have come off my bender and decided to move on with my life, to make the changes I needed. And your exactly what I needed. My own personal angel, my goddess, My Buffy”

She hummed sweetly and he wished in this moment of exultation he could draw her to him, take comfort in the solidity of her soft feminine body against his own as he spilled his heart and buckets of salt. As it was, he felt like a right ponce for spilling his guts over the phone rather than in person.

“If I hadn’t of already known you were a writer, I’d have thought you stole those words from someone. But that’s all you, isn’t it Spike? All words from that big heart of yours. You know how to make a girl feel so special”

“Only interested in makin’ you feel special luv. No one else”

“Such a sweetie” She cooed “And all mine. My personal poet”

“All yours” He agreed. Happiness spread through him like wildfire, bare kindling exposed to the open flame of her kindness and love and he watched and felt as they caught fire within him. He felt it warming him, starting with his extremities. His pinky fingers and toes were tingling and then it raced up his limbs as though he was the California brush and there was no stopping how fast it spread. It was violent and messy, and he had no intention of letting it stop. Even when it got to the ice age proportion of ice around his heart, a near impenetrable wall he’d built as to never be hurt the same way again, the fire she gifted him with started melting it within minutes.

After a comfortable silence, the voice within him, the demon that talked to him, fell silent; content and sleepy after their amorous phone call.

“What did you want to talk about today?” He questioned “Got some time don’t you?”

“A little. I need to get some things done in a little bit…but at the moment I can’t seem to feel my legs” He voice taking on a knowing tone and he wished to see the smile he knew she was wearing. “Why don’t you tell me about your book? The one you’re writing now” Her voice hopeful now.

“Oh. Oh I see. Trying to get the sneak preview are we? Date the writer and know all the little secrets”

“You caught me” She spoke with a sarcastic drawl. “I’m only in it for the free books. Not because the writer happens to be the kindest, funniest, sexiest man I’ve ever met in my entire life”

“Sexy huh?” He preened

“Seriously? That’s the only bit you focus on?” She scoffed

“Not the only thing. Just doesn’t hurt when I hear it”

“That’s rich coming from the man who gets metric tons of panties and flattering letters in the mail”

“Unwanted!” He exclaimed “Unsolicited posts from birds that are off their bloody trolley! Christ if you could see some of the bleedin things that come to me” He whined

“Spike—”

“Oh, well I imagine you **_will_** see it now if you’ll be sharing my flat with me”

“Spike—” She tried again; a bit more impatient

“Can’t believe them. What are they thinkin’? Drive Spike round the bloody bend”

“Spike!” She nearly shouted, her commanding tone all but stopping him in his tracks. His jaw snapped shut.

“Down boy” She barked, and a whimper escaped him. She took a moment which he guessed was to compose herself.

“Now…what’s the new book about?” She questioned calmly, all traces of anger and authority gone.

“Decided to go east this time. Thought I’d give the readers a break from the western scene. United States cities are too played out you know? New York, Houston, even Los Angeles. So I decided to go to Japan. I won’t give you all the spoilers of course. It’ll ruin the book for you”

“Fair enough. What about our protagonist? At the end of the last book he was pretty unhappy, what with the divorce and all”

“I think you’ll find he’s going to have a change of heart” He answered cryptically

A beat.

“I’ll actually get free books though, right?”

“Don’t even have to ask. What’s mine is yours pet. Already told you that”

“Awesome” She giggled “And don’t think it doesn’t go both ways. I can probably get some free flights, first class, wherever you want to go. Is there somewhere you want to but haven’t gotten the chance yet?”

He didn’t have the heart to tell her that all of his flights were completely paid for by his agent or publishing company. He could travel anywhere in the world at a moment’s notice and price was never an issue.

“Pretty much been everywhere pet. Between my backpacking days after uni and my book tour now, I’ve been all over the soddin globe”

“Well then, what’s your favorite? Where would you want to go back to?”

He thought carefully for a few moments. Picking out just one place out of the hundreds he’d been to was no paltry task. He thought of the sights he’d gotten to see; the national landmarks, the cities, the beautiful country sides. He thought of the people he met; the young people and the elders. He thought of the cultures he’d observed and the food that he’d eaten.

“If I had to choose just one? Probably Thailand. Very welcoming, beautiful country, not to mention some of the spiciest food I’ve ever eaten. What I wouldn’t give for a good bowl of Gaeng Tai Pla right now” He nearly moaned

“Blech. I can’t handle spicy. I’m a total wuss when it comes to things that go in my mouth”

He dropped his voice low on purpose “Doesn’t seem to be an issue when you’re taking me kitten. Your bloody magnificent handling my cock” He purred into the phone

“W...Well that’s because I _want_ you” She stammered and he imagined the way the blood was rushing to her face right now, turning her cheeks that gorgeous shade of pink, For as confident as she was when it came to being in charge of him, he found it endearing that he could still catch her off guard sometimes and make her stutter like a virgin.

“Yeah? Tell me more”

“How is it that every time we talk, it somehow divulges into sex or sex talk?” She huffed

“Sorry baby. ‘M a bad rude man. Just want you all the bleedin time” When she was silent for a few moments, a clear indicator that she was done talking about it, he changed subjects in order to prevent anymore wasted silence.

“What about you? You travel constantly. What’s your favorite place that you’ve been to?

“This is gonna sound really cliché” She giggled “But definitely Hawaii. It’s so peaceful and the people are so nice, and I mean come on! Those beaches!? Absolutely perfect. God what I wouldn’t do to spend a week there on those sands”

“Can go. Just the two of us. I usually burn rather than tan and I’m not much for the water, but I’d be out of my mind to not want to spend all that time with you. Just relaxing, away from everything and everyone else”

“And…?” She lead him

“And…getting to see you in tiny stringy togs that show off those luscious curves and muscles. From the top of your flawless bouncy golden hair to the bottom of your pretty pink painted toes” He praised

“How do you know what color my toes are? Or if there even done?”

“Because pet. I’ll have been the one to do them for you, obviously”

She squealed in delight “My god Spike, I think I nearly fainted. If I wasn’t sure of how perfect you were before, I know now. Your saying that you’ll willingly do my nails!? Anytime I want? No complaining?”

“Darling” He purred “I’d love nothing more”

“Oh my god. You’re the best boyfriend ever. Anyone who ever said that rich English writers are self-absorbed pricks only interested in screwing fans need to have their tongues ripped out and then drawn and quartered are totally liars” She rambled, gaining fury with each word.

“Seems to be a mite specific and oddly thought out to be apropos of nothing. Should I be worried?”

“Xander” She stated simply

“Is that a name?”

“My friend Xander. He’s had a crush on me for a long time. When I told him I split from Riley he thought he had another chance. But then I was domming for Pike, and then Scott and then Parker. And well, he didn’t really know what was going on with me because I’m not that comfortable telling him as of yet, so he thought I was just being rebound girl. Just hopping on whatever dick I could find to help ease the loss of Riley”

“And this wanker is your friend?” He seethed

“Umm…” There was a long pause before she spoke again “Eww Spike, you Brits have some weirdly gross insults. But to answer your question, yes he’s still my friend. We’ve been best friends for a long time, the crush thing is well, just a thing. He was just jealous again and hurting from being turned down”

“Doesn’t give him the right to say such nasties to a proper lady such as yourself”

“Yeah well. He was a bit rude I agree. But for some reason I can’t seem to bring myself to tell him about me. We’ve always been truthful with each other. But I feel like he would criticize me or shame me for it or something”

“Christ luv, there’s nothing to be ashamed of” He consoled

“I know” She agreed softly “I know that now and I’ll tell him some day, when he’s ready for it. I heard through Willow that he’s started seeing a girl named Anya. Maybe that will take some of the edge off”

“Might. Depends on the bird”

“Willow says she’s kind of awkward and very blunt, but she’s honest and loyal”

“Sounds good for him them. This is the bloke that wants to see me drawn and bloody quartered?”

“Yeah” She said sheepishly “I just get the feeling he’s extra uber jealous because I’m dating a rich English guy. Something as far from him that he could think of. But he’ll be alright. Once he meets you he won’t be able to help falling in love with you”

“Can’t say I won’t be flattered. Not the first time a bloke has fallen at my feet” He rumbled salaciously

She scoffed “Your incorrigible”

“And you love it” He purred back

“Just try and be cool with him. He doesn’t need more of a complex”

“I’ll play nice” He agreed

“Good boy” She praised, and he groaned in response. Bloody phrase was going to be the death of him.

“Thank you for the praise goddess”

“Oh that’s nice” She purred “I like that a lot”

“Anything to please. Got myself a hole to dig out of”

“That you do. You’re doing a good job so far though”

“Thank you” he muttered softly, a feeling of pride fluttering through him. “Do your other mates know then? About you?”

“Willow knows. But she’s the only one I’ve told so far”

“Red?”

“Yeah we’re best friends too. I tell her everything. Willow, Xander and I have been friends since the beginning of high school”

“And what does she think?”

“Honestly? She told me if she thought she had even a tiny shot with me or if I was remotely gay she’d be all over me” She giggled “It was kind of a good feeling”

“Lots of people are into it. Be surprised how many birds are”

“What is it that people find so attractive about it? In your opinion”

“Well I can’t speak for everyone. Some like the fetishes’ involved with it; humiliation and the like, age play, role playing, that sort of thing. Some want the escape. To be someone you’re not for a little while, put your hands in someone else’s. It takes away the pressure for a bit, makes life seem a bit more distant. Me? I’m aroused by the strength. I crave the power of a women; her fierceness. The authority in her voice and the passion of her craft. The way she takes control of a man like me and brings him to her knees. Then o’course there’s a bit of doors number one and two there as well, wanting to give up control and forget about life for a while, my masochistic nature.

“Have you always been like that?”

“Yes and no. ‘S a bit complicated”

“What does that mean?” She asked hesitantly

“It means luv that—” He was cut off by his ringtone going off, blaring an annoying compilation of 8-bit notes. “Bollocks” He cursed

“What’s the matter?”

“My agent is one the other line. Sorry pet, ‘fraid I have to take this”

“Of course. I should get packing anyways. And I want to get a quick nap in”

“Right sweetheart. Can’t have you missing your beauty sleep after all, not that you need it”

“Smooth talker. I’ll call you before I have to sleep okay?”

“Course luv, ta for now”

“Bye. L—” And the phone rapidly hung up. _Was that? Did she?_ His mind swarmed with the possibilities. The almost nonexistent pause between by at the start of some other sentence. The near impossible to hear frightful intake of breath that bordered on a gasp. The way she hung up so bleedin fast. His brain was scrambling to come up with something. Neurons firing at light speed and trying to fill in the blanks and while he stumbled for purchase he remembered that his agent was on the other line.

“Rupert” He answered smoothly

“William. Where the devil have you been? It’s been a nightmare getting hold of you. I haven’t seen your line this tied up since we had the issue with the publisher a few years ago”

“Sorry Rupes. I’ve been—”

“Don’t tell me you’ve been pissed this entire time. I had thoughts that moving would—”

“’s not that” He supplied quickly with a bit more excitement in his voice then he guessed the old man was used to hearing.

“Oh…well…yes. Very good” He spoke in a pleased manner but quickly changing back to overbearing. “That still doesn’t explain why it’s been so hard to get a straight answer out of you. If you haven’t answered my email about confirming your attendance at the convention tomorrow, I was afraid I was going to have to call the police and figure out which station someone was going to have to pick your arse up from”

“Ripper, mate. ‘M all right. Been mostly sober for the past two weeks, just a nip here and there to take off the edge”

“Then where the blast have you been!?” A muted fury in his usually even tone

“I uh…I texted her. Finally grew my bollocks back and hit the send button” He admitted sheepishly

There was a pause from the other man’s side, the older chap was a master (and bloody infuriating) at making him hang in anxiety inducing suspense. But after several long, long seconds of quiet, as though he was contemplating the exact nature of every syllable, he loosed a pleasant sigh

“Good god man. Only took you long enough. This was the one to Ms. Summers yes? The American?”

“The one and only” He sighed, a reverence there

“I trust it went well then”

“How could you tell”

“Well if it wasn’t the total lack of communication over the past two days, which could have been explained away; you’re not exactly the easiest person to get ahold of, I’d rather say it was the way you just sighed like a bloody cartoon character when he’s in love. I could practically **_see_** the giant bloody heart! If I’d have thought you’d be insulted, I’d say your acting like a nancy schoolboy with his first crush”

“I can’t help it Rupert. If you could just meet her once, I know you’d feel like I do about her. She’s smart, witty and has a snarky streak a mile wide. Keeps me on my toes, challenges me. Beautiful too. The most gorgeous woman I’ve ever seen”

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re trying to set the girl up with me”

“Watch your tongue old man” He bit “She’s about three decades out of your league. ‘Sides. You couldn’t handle her. Little firecracker she is. Worried about holding onto her honestly”

“You’d be surprised. I’ve been called a number of things throughout my time, stevedore for example” He said with a dark pride in his voice that Spike hadn’t heard before.

“Dunno whether to chunder or clap you on the back you old dog” He praised “Bit of both maybe?”

“Yes well, reminiscing aside. Have you been working on your notes for tomorrow? I know you’ve been out of the game for a few months now so if you haven’t worked on it, I compiled a comprehensive list” He rambled excitedly

_Just like the old man. Still hasn’t changed. More excited over a pile of books then he is to talk about birds. Though he was always a bit of a stiff ole bloke._

“Not that I don’t respect your help Rupes. But I _have_ been a good lad and done all my homework. Got a list of my own”

“Right…well…good” He stuttered “Did you want to go over it?” His voice hopeful

_I damned well do not. I’d much rather hang up with you so’s I can go back to talkin’ with Buffy. Would love to be bringin’ her off again ‘fore she goes to sleep. Never gonna get tired of that. But she did say she needed some time to get packed, get things done. Best respect the lady’s wishes_

“Yeah alright” He drawled. “Lucky for you, got some time to kill before my lady wants me to call again”

The talk, which he was thoroughly expecting to turn into one of Rupert’s long winded lectures, as though he was back in Cambridge and sitting down for something very long and very stodgy, didn’t turn out to be that way at all. Rather Rupert just listened for once. He added a few bits of advice here and there and corrected him with any updates in regard to the film that had changed, as it would more than likely be the focus point of the panel. He was rather excited to announce that he was working on the next book in his saga, especially with the new love interest he was going to introduce. That would be something the fans would lose their bloody minds over.

His editor had not been in favor of the romance aspect of it at first, a _male_ author including romance as an essential part of his books plots. It was was expected with a female writer, but a male author seemed abnormal. He didn’t think it would catch on. He quickly changed his tune after his first book, a top spot on the most wanted list and selling millions of copies and raking in just as much money. Apparently, men writing good erotica was an untapped market and a complete gold mine.

“Think we’ve got it about covered, Rupes. I uh…thanks. I appreciate your help. Seems I did manage to forget about a few things”

“It was rather egregious of you. But I suppose I can’t blame you since you clearly haven’t been thinking with you brain as of late”

“Know me. Follow my blood” He huffed

There was a pregnant pause between the two Englishmen and Spike swore he could _hear_ the old man clean his glasses before he spoke again.

“You seem rather well” He spoke gently “Much better than you’ve been in a while. I’d thought we’d lost that trademark snark of yours forever”

“It’s Buffy. Told you before what a revelation she was, how she made me feel. Can’t stop thinkin’ about her. She’s all I think about, dream about. She’s in my head, in my throat. I’m drownin’ in her mate, completely drownin’ in her” He murmured reverently, spilling his heart, his gut, his soul to the one person in his life that still actually gave a shit about him.

“Better than drowning in a bottle, William”

Spike let another silence pass between them. Over the past few days he’d been talking to Buffy, he hadn’t once thought about drinking, not the kind that had him pissed and passed out in his bed. He didn’t feel the weight of the world around him or the shadows creeping in. The need to fill the void of empty silence and pass the time was no longer there, because for once since he and Drusilla had split apart, the world was filled with sound.

Everything around him seemed brighter, colors more vibrant and the gloom that covered him like a second skin was cast off like an insects exoskeleton. He was singing again for Christsake. Something he hadn’t gone in ages other than spewing garbage covers of his favorite punk songs. He had used to sing for Dru all the time, mostly acapella but sometimes accompanied by a guitar or bass. It would calm her some nights when she was less than lucid, and her dreams and visions made her barmier than usual. Little lullabies and acoustic renditions of famous songs, not that she recognized them when she was in states like that, but they seemed to mellow her out.

He hoped to whatever God there was that Liam was taking care of her, that she wasn’t just a pet project of the month and left in the dust for greater consequences, cast aside once the toy wasn’t as shiny and new anymore; the leftovers of a pissing match in which he’d lost. Despite what Drusilla had done to him, the feelings he had for, the love he felt for her were never going truly going to go away. It wasn’t going to be the same kind of love again; she’d seen to it that his heart no longer beat for her the way it once did. Like it would break his chest at her nearness, like she was the singular gift of darkness in his life. But he would always care for her; his dark princess, his beautifully insane plum, his savior from mediocrity. And to not know if she was being taken care of, if she was getting the attention she needed was still burning a hole in his skull.

The words left his lips before he even realized it. “How’s Dru?” He asked nonchalantly. Pause, broken by a near silent intake of cautionary breath.

“Spike” He spoke carefully “Do you really?—”

“I’m okay Rupert” His voice soft and gentle “All the damage has already been done. I’ve moved on. It only took a year of whineging and nearly pissing my life away, but I’m fine. Really. I just…” He sighed heavily “I just need to know if she’s okay. If she’s being taken care of. She’s…she can’t be on her own. I bloody well hate that fiancé stealing poofter. That git has caused me nothing but trouble since the day he came back into Dru’s life…but—” He paused. His heart ached. For himself, for the pain she caused him. “But I need to know she’s safe. Happy even” He mumbled morosely.

“She’s doing well. I don’t keep regular tabs on her, not after the two of you split up. But I do have my contacts. Last I heard, she’s traveling the better parts of eastern Europe. The three of them”

An unwelcomed mixture of relief and jealousy flowed through him, filled his veins with content that his former lover at least remained safe and happy and with malice for the two usurpers that took her away. The ones that turned their quartet into a trio, turned the love of his life against him and cast him out like a leper. When Dru had brought him into her world. Introduced him into her second family. He wanted to be accepted by them after being a pariah for so long. His need for acceptance and love after being ridiculed and bullied for most of his life drove him to be a part of something that otherwise wouldn’t have crossed his mind before.

They took him on as their ‘fledge’, always challenging him, pushing him, taking him to new heights. Between the four of them there was no depraved act; everything was open, natural. And while not everything turned out to be his cuppa, he definitely learned something about himself, about his sexuality and his limits. He also learned just about everything about his two new companions, some things he wished had stayed dead and buried until the end of time.

He **_really_** could have gone his entire life knowing Liam’s fetish for young bordering on pedophilic obsession with virginal girls or that Darla had spread her finely pampered legs for just about every hot blooded male within a bloody 50 mile radius. He’d also learned from the great forehead himself a lot more about Drusilla that he hadn’t known and wouldn’t have guessed. That was the first thing that have him a wriggling feeling that squirmed its way through his gut. Made holes in his skin; nasty blood and pus filled tunnels like burrowing botflies that brought about the questioning doubt about his flighty lover. And it had all gone downhill from there.

Her absence from his trips, more frequent as time went on. Minutes to hours to days to weeks to months as she became less and less a part of his life while in the meantime she gave them all to them; to **_him_**. Like a cosmically fucked up version of Lavoisier’s theory of mass. The question had always been there in the back of his mind, how does a person develop such specific ways in order to cum?

Why was it that his girl, so soft and delicate, had to be throttled to the point of strangulation? Beaten so that bones nearly broke and mottled blue and purple bruises bloomed across her snow white skin? Bound and gagged and forced to beg for mercy, for cock, for attention, in order to experience a meaningful orgasm? He didn’t understand how it started, but he knew he didn’t want to be that sort of man for her. Sure, he had developed and learned to enjoy a lot of the same things that she did. His masochistic and submissive tendencies developing both from his intense need for attention and a reaction to his childhood bullying on a deep subconscious level. He was complacent in giving those things to her, doing them for her sake and not for his own enjoyment, though once in a while he found he needed that kind of control.

There was a point in time that he had tried desperately to change her view on sex and love and tried to reform her needs. He realized now it was selfishly motivated, wanting to be her first at something when he clearly hadn’t been. It was naïve of him to think he could have been the one to change and fix her, to be her white knight in shining armor when she wanted him to be her dark prince. After the irrevocable damage that had been done to both her body and mind, presumably by Liam and Darla it was folly to think a single man, one as lowly as himself, one who before his dark goddess had gifted him the grace of her presence and spared a second glance, who took him into her ethereal body would be able to give her something other than the violence, was madness.

He wanted to give the girl something that the other’s couldn’t. He wanted to be the sole source of a new form of sex that instead of violence and pain and power was born from trust and comfort and love. He wanted to be the one to make love to her for the first time. Gentle and tender, filling her with deep, powerful strokes that would make her tremble and writhe but not scream in pain. Wanted to whisper words of love and devotion and not the biting insults that demeaned her. For she was a goddess among mortals and deserved to be praised as such.

But not matter how hard he tried, he continued to fail. She would be interested in all but a few minutes before becoming bored with the lack of stimulation, crying out for his hands around her delicate throat for switches to her already scarred thighs. After a while he couldn’t cope with it anymore. It was not in his nature to cause such pain. The poet in him protested the violence in favor of the creation of beauty and instead of going insane, he instead became her full time submissive partner. He supposed that was where it all fell apart. He hadn’t realized it then, poor naïve sod that he was, but Liam was right there to pick up those pieces, just like he had before.

“William?” The tentative voice of the elder man spike, snapping him from the unknown haze he had seemed to put himself in, sucked into the past. _Down the bloody rabbit hole again, eh Alice?_

“I’m fine Rupert” He voice clipped “Let’s just leave it yeah?”

“Yes. Yes of course. I think it’s best to take my leave now. Living in the states seems to have made you forgotten I’m well near 8 hours ahead of you”

Spike glanced at the clock at his bedside and noticed that it was getting well into the evening, putting it around 2am in Bath where the old man spent most of his time.

“Can’t believe your even up this late gramps. And I don’t see how this is my fault. You’re the one that called me”

“After trying to reach you all bloody day you berk!”

“Now, now Rupert. No need to get worked up. Don’t want to overload that ticker of yours. Take a finger of the good stuff and toddle off back to bed. Olivia there?”

A contented sigh from the other side gave him his answer. “In bed, no doubt. Probably up waiting for me to get off the phone” He paused “She’s been worried for you too you know”

A dismissive sound arose from his throat as his chest clenched. He wasn’t used to the attention, the feeling of people, as in more than one, caring about his wellbeing. Not those close to him anyways. His fans were always supportive of him of course, but their love and support was only by proxy. That wasn’t to say that it didn’t mean anything, because it did, but two or three close friends were worth millions of anonymous ones. For the longest time it had only been Rupert. And all of a sudden he had more people in his corner. Olivia, now Buffy too. It was a bit of overload after not having it for so long. Like trying to take gulps of water after being dehydrated.

“Thank you” He finally managed, afraid that if he said anything more he’d end up sniveling like a child. “Goodnight” There was a mumbled response and then the phone clicked off and he was left with the silence of his empty flat. Usually there was some kind of music playing in the background, because he damned well loved music and it was a way to ward of the feeling of being alone. Hearing other voices, even recorded ones, made him feel like he wasn’t completely by himself. But it was quiet and empty since he’d been talking to Buffy. He hadn’t wanted any distractions and wanted to concentrate solely on the melodic tone of her voice. Now though, with the evening winding down, he decided to throw a record on to quell his buzzing nerves.

He threw on a thin black robe, not for the sake of modesty because one he didn’t give a flying fuck and two it was his own goddamned home, but for protection against the chilly temperature he kept the flat at. California’s scorching heat and lack of rain was a stark difference from his native home of London, and he found the consistent chill of AC reminded him more of home. He’d never been one much for the sun and sweltering temperatures. As he set a record in his vinyl player, the thrumming sounds of Agent Orange filled the empty space and he felt some of his anxiety fall away. He supposed he should go and get some nosh in him, though he had little patience for wanting to cook something for himself at the mo. Whatever leftovers he had in his scarcely stocked fridge would do until he got some real shopping done.

He couldn’t host a beautiful woman without having anything to offer her after all. _Need to find out what snacks and drinks the bird likes to have around if she’s going to be here. Already got a bead on her food preference but I want her to feel welcome while she’s here._

He padded across the dark hardwood floors, a chill running through him and rummaged for something quick so he could spend less time eating and spend more time searching through boxes. He grabbed a bit of fruit, a wedge of a nice soft Chevre and ripped off a piece of a whole grain baguette. He crunched through the sweet tang of a ruby colored apple while strolling through the wall of cardboard, juice running down his chin.

How sad it was that his entire life was packed up into a dozen or so 24x24x24 boxes. At nearly 30 this was all he amounted to in terms of material possessions not including furniture and most of it consisted of kitchen wares, sex toys, sheets and books. He didn’t even have that much clothing. Running sticky fingers over the taped up edges of his life, he set to moving them around, organizing them together based on their locations in rooms of the house. The particular box he sought after laid underneath the all, inconspicuously labeled ‘Bedroom’ but containing many items that would make even the most sexually liberated blush and bat their eyes.

He set down the munched up apple, leaving nothing but a thin core and tore off a piece of bread and swiped it through the tangy cheese. With his free hand, he cut through thick layers of packing tape with a switchblade he’d left over here for when he was ready to open the boxes. And just like that, a large portion of his life was staring him in the face once again. Layers of leather and metal and latex packed together in such an organized manner that it appeared they had just been shipped. But no. Every item here had been broken in, lovingly (or roughly) used at least one time or another. His fingers skimmed over the plaited handle of an exceptionally well loved cat-o-nine tails, a particular favorite of his.

The memories it dredged up were bittersweet and he remembered long days and nights of being tied and restrained as he let his wicked paramour have her way with him. Some days good; euphoric experiences that nearly changed his life and some days filled with unimaginable horror and considered torture by most. The memories that he had, good or bad, were always going to be there. He was hard pressed to forget nearly anything that happened to him. But he wanted to make new memories now.

With the help of Buffy, his sweet blonde angel, his fiery little hellcat, his goddess of a domina, he would forge new ones. And in order to start…..ahh, there it was! Buried deep within the center of the box, cradled between leather restraints, spreader bars, handcuffs and Wartenburg wheel’s was smaller wooden box with a padlock. Hefting it from its storage place he made his way back to his bedroom where his keys on his bedside table. He swapped out one for another, his culinary delights for the ring of metal. There weren’t many there; the key to his house, one each for his cars, his bike, to a safety deposit box, the box he was currently holding and a few that opened some of the fun objects within this locked prison.

He opened it with a click, the sound familiar thought it had been a while since it had been used. Among its contents, a few odds and ends that he preferred to keep under lock and key. Included in this was the small-ish silver contraption that Buffy had called for her form of punishment. It was simple in design, chosen for him for two particular reasons. The first was to indulge his masochistic tendencies, by way of internal spikes. Rings of stainless steel that would contain his cock in a neat and clean way with the added bonus of smooth edged ridges that would apply a secondary reason to keep his erections under control. Most would consider the whole process torture, but the pain he would receive should he choose to let his thoughts wander would only serve to make him obey her more.

It was so much greater of a reward when he was finally released. And all things considered, a mere two days was nothing compared to the stretches of time he would have to undergo while Dru was in control. Mostly because the bloody bitch had forgotten about it or lost the key more than once. The second reason he chose this particular design was for its conspicuous nature when it came to his everyday fashion. He did not want to have to give up wearing the tight black jeans part of his normal wardrobe for the sake of his chastity, nor did he want to give up the opportunity to wear said cage. While wearing this little beauty, it would only be truly noticeable if one was actively looking for it as it appear to distend the crotch of his jeans no more than if he had a stiffy.

“Lo ole friend” He whispered to himself with a bemused smile while fingering the metallic loops. He set it on the table with a muffled clink before examining some of the other contents. All sorts of x rated goodies met his eyes. Two different sizes of anal plugs and beads and an especially delicious anal vibrator that he’d been forced to wear in public on more than one occasion. _Wonder if she’s been with a man comfortable enough with himself and his pleasure to want these sorts of things. Can’t imagine that Mr. red blooded American would have agreed. Can’t really imagine that he know more than three bloody positions, but that’s beside the point. At least I know I can be myself around her_. He imagined her then, kneeling over his bound and naked body practically drooling over him. _No shame mate_. That wicked inner voice interjected _You’re a damn fine looking bloke. You know it, she knows it. Course she’ll be droolin’. Cutie didn’t get a proper look at all the goods the first go’round._

He closed the box and set it aside, the other goods a reminder of more good things to come, he hoped, and instead opted to take a shower while he had the time. He purposefully checked his phone, noting that he’d not yet received any response from Buffy and if she happened to be like other girls in terms of primping habits, he likely had a tic or two before she’d be calling him.

His new master bedroom was incredible, most notably its large and spacious state of the art tub, which was really just a glorified hot tub what with all the jets, and his double ended open shower complete with a 360 degree range of shower heads including a large one on the ceiling. He quickly stripped and hung his robe on the back of the door before turning on a dozen and a half different nozzles and setting them to scalding hot. The room quickly filled with warm steam that settled around his pale body like a cloud and he proceeded to wash up. He stood there for way too bloody long, long enough that his normally pale skin nearly matched the ruddy color of his cock head, currently soft and warm and tucked away into his foreskin.

“Christ” He muttered to himself, his head a little dizzy and he pushed himself away from the wall he’d apparently started to lean on. Turning off all the dials and nobs he ran his fingers through sodden bone white locks. He wasn’t sure how long he stood there in a daze just air drying off only that at some point he vaguely heard the chirping of his phone indicating a text or call or summat.

 _Buffy!_ He thought excitedly, happiness blooming in his chest. He’d never gotten done with a shower and dried off so fast.

“Bugger” He growled to himself, noting that she had indeed tried to call him while his head was in the clouds. He was redialing her faster than you could say god save the queen and she picked up on the second ring.

“Hey there” Her voice sweet and perky, like she was happy to hear from him. The shock was never going to wear off and it made his heart swell.

“’Lo yourself luv. Sorry I missed you on the first ring, was in the shower”

“Ooh wet and soapy Spike” She hummed pleasantly

“Easy kitten, not nice to get a man all riled up right before you lock em up” He teased, hoping to cover the desperation in his voice as his damn near insatiable prick started to perk up already. Impossible bloody thing.

“Not nice huh?” her voice dropping an octave and taking on a dangerous tone. The one he had come to associate with her when she was taking control. “I believe it was you that got yourself locked up in the first place. Are you saying it was my fault that you didn’t listen to me? That you disobeyed me?”

 _Fuck! Oh fuck. Oh bloody fuck!_ The way her anger was rising, the hiss of her voice. He had to stop himself from dropping into a prone position, bent at the knee and bowing before her like the right vicious queen she was. “No goddess” He answered automatically, like it was second nature. But it was _more_ than that. Ran deeper. It was instinct. An instinct to please. “All my fault it was. Couldn’t keep my pathetic prick under control. Couldn’t keep from bursting because there haven’t been consequences in a long time. Need your guidance goddess, your disciple”

“That’s right you do” She agreed “And we have the solution for that….don’t we?”

“We do”

“Did you find it then?”

“Yes. Along with a wealth of other delectable goodies” He hummed salaciously reveling in the shudder she made despite her best efforts to hide it.

“G…good. We can discuss using those…later. For now…” Her voice evening back out “I want to see you put it on”

“Yes. Of course. Give us a tic to figure out the logistics. Gotta prop my phone or summat” His brow creasing as he glanced around his shoddily furnished room. “Gonna switch over to video luv” He spoke pressing a button or two and propping his phone up in an awkward way against the pillow of his bed, so it was angled up enough to capture the lower half of his body.

“See alright luv?” He’d never given much a thought towards modesty and all that rot. Well. After his transformation to Spike that was. Dear William would have been tongue tied and quite possibly might have died from shock at the mere thought of revealing the goods to a member of the fairer sex. But the fact of the matter was that he was more comfortable with himself when he was around Buffy then he had been before. There was no wearing of a second skin or playing pretend. Any mask he wore had been ripped off to expose what was underneath. All of that and not once was he frightened. Any lingering thoughts of doubt had quickly faded when he was with her.

“I see plenty” She purred “And I very much like what I see” Her voice got softer then “And I want to see more of it, I promise but while I have you here, I haven’t seen you in over six months Spike, other than the picture of you on the back of your new book. I want to see you” There was a hint of pleading in her voice that made his heart flutter. She was going to give him a heart attack if she kept this up. He didn’t think he was ever going to get used to the affection she so openly displayed. Not when it had been denied it for so long before.

“Course luv. Rather chuffed that you missed my ugly mug” He picked up the phone and turned it on himself, that feeling of self-embarrassment and hesitancy crawling under his skin.

“Definitely not ugly” She breathed out with an airy sigh and she’d taken that moment to turn on her video as well and for the first time in over six months, he was able to see her as well. A soft, sweet smile graced her face and his heart constricted again at that tender gesture. The way those jade colored eyes sparkled at him like he was the light of her life. The way that she still radiated sunshine, personified in human form.

“And your still as gorgeous as ever. My effulgent beauty. My sun goddess” He praised reverently

“And there’s that pretty mouth of yours, always running. Always using words I never understand” She chuckled “You used that one last time, on the plane. What’s it mean?”

“Beauty? Oh bloody hell luv. Know your still in school but I’d think you’d at least know what that means”

“Your such a smartass. Good to see that hasn’t changed either” She spoke dryly. “I meant the other one. The e one”

“Effulgent. Means radiant. Not commonly used now a days”

“But they used it back when you were alive 100 years ago?” He chortled and even though she was testing his last bleedin nerve, the way her face lit up as she smiled brought him a joy that he’d been missing in his life for so long. How the laugh lines of her brow and around those oh so kissable pink pouty lips of hers when they curled into a smile may be the cutest thing he’d seen in his life. And he did not throw the ‘c’ word around lightly…well…not cute anyways. It wasn’t even a word he’d use to describe her under normal circumstances. He never did go for ‘cute’ types. No. She was all passion and fire and salt. You didn’t call women like Buffy cute without expecting some kind of reprimand.

“Hah bloody hah. No luv. Just been replaced by other words. More modern. I know it because of all the bloody poetry I’ve read” He huffed, mumbling under his breath

“Mmm that’s my guy. Tough on the outside, sweet and romantic on the inside”

He felt the air leave his lungs in another rush. _My guy_. The words got stuck in his head in a loop. A hypnotizing manta that had him shocked and dazed, unable to recall even how to breath. _My guy_. She’d given him words of endearment before. Given him pet names that made him melt like a lad with his first crush on a gorgeous bird. And now, as of yesterday, they were together. Lovers. A couple. So it shouldn’t be a surprise that she was now openly calling him her guy because in fact, he was. But it was the newness of it, that intense feeling of rightness, of something so good that he honestly wasn’t used to. To be worthy of someone’s time and affection. To be the sort of man who could be there for her, after so many had let her down. To be worthy of being trusted when trust was so rarely given. If it hadn’t been clear before, it was never clearer in his mind.

_I’m in love with the girl. I’m in love with Buffy. Its too soon mate, way too soon. Right? Instant love like this isn’t real is it? Its only seen on the telly and children’s stories. It doesn’t happen in real life, not like this. Or…does it? Certainly feels like to me. Dunno about the girl though. But what about earlier? Chit was gonna say something but cut herself off. But I know what it sounded like. It sounded like…_

“You alright there?” Her voice broke through his stream of consciousness, a nervous inflection there that made him feel guilty for spacing out.

“More than alright. Rather like the way it sounds” He said smiling.

“Yeah” She spoke softly with an echoing smile “Me too” She smiled at him a moment longer before those perky lips thinned out and eyes narrowed again. He recognized the change instantly; she was back to business.

“Now. Prop me up the way you had it so I can watch you put the cage on” She commanded

“Of course goddess”

Within moments he had the camera set on him the way he had moments ago, capturing him from the navel down as he sat Indian style at the foot of his bed.

“Spread open” She instructed

He did so without hesitation. Unfurling long pale limbs and unabashedly revealing his groin to her once again. Even from only having a small conversation with her, the traitor between his thighs started to rise and he cursed the thing under his breath.

“That’s gonna hurt if it goes on now” She spoke blandly “Better find a way to get him down without touching yourself”

_Bleedin menace you are_

“I will”

“Don’t take too long”

Closing his eyes he blocked out everything and focused on the one thing that was sure to get him down in seconds. Those intense feelings of depression and despair he felt the night he’d discovered Dru and Liam. How his entire gut felt like it as boiling him alive from the inside and the bile that came up threatened to eat away at the lining of his throat. The way his vision dimmed until all he saw was a tunnel of black and his body was overtaken with a petrifying chill. And just like that night, and for nearly 6 months after, he felt himself rapidly deflate. He was so relieved that she couldn’t see his face. She was such an emotional girl and knowing what pain he had to traumatize himself with in order to obey her orders would have likely made her break character, like would have put her off from wanting to continue this now, or maybe ever. _Last bloody thing I need is her not wanting to fuck because of something she thinks she did wrong_

“Good boy” She purred with no traces in her tone that she suspected anything. “Love it when you listen. Someone’s doing very well to get back into good graces. Now…put it on. Slowly. So I know your not trying to pull wool over my eyes”

“Never” He answered automatically. Like he would try and cheat his way out of a punishment that he deserved. He fiddled with the thing, removing the lock and key and setting them aside. He kept his thoughts even as he grabbed hold of his heavy sack with his dominant hand and fed it through the furthest metal ring that pressed against his pelvis, suppressing a moan. He knew the soddin thing was meant to be a punishment, but it felt so damned good how the unyielding metal forcibly compressed his testicles. The coolness of the metal against his hot skin.

He always sort of an odd duck for liking the way it felt when someone squeezed ‘em real tight to the point of pain. Once that bit was on, the rest slipped on as easily as slipping on a sock. A cold, constricting metal sock. All the while he heard Buffy’s encouraging praise and murmurs of appreciation both for his actions and for his prick itself.

_Bloody glorious bitch, trying to make it hard on me. Pushing me against my limits. Testing me at every soddin turn. There’s no one, past or future that’s ever going to compare to her. To the way she makes me feel. Never. Never thought I’d say it but sorry Hara. She blows you out of the bleedin water. Too wonderful you were darling. You gave me everything. More than a worthless git like me ever deserves in his lifetime. But Christ, your nothing like her. If Drusilla was my salvation, Buffy is my redemption._

The semi rough edges of the metal spikes lining the inside of the cage pressed tightly against the sensitive flesh that was now being packed into its tiny prison.

“There’s my good boy” She cooed as he finished getting the soddin thing as close to comfortable as he could make it. Not that it would last because the damned thing was already reacting to her calling him a good boy. Too bad it was in for a very uncomfortable surprise.

“Lock up now”

He did as she bade, slipping the small silver lock through and snapping it closed with a tiny metallic **_CLICK_**

“Good boy Spike” She murmured affectionately. More shivers ran down his spine in reaction. A satisfied rumble emanating from his chest. “I love it when you make that sound. That you react like that every time. That you’re so expressive and vocal. I’ve noticed that men don’t tend to be vocal unless you ask them. Like its somehow emasculating to show that your enjoying what your partner is going to you. But that doesn’t matter to you, does it?”

“No” He answered firmly “Not at all”

“And why is that?” The voice he associated with her domina persona was all but gone, now sweet and melodious. He made to speak when she cut him off again.

“First. Lemme see you again. It’s kinda awkward just talking to your groin like this. It makes me feel like I’m just personifying you as some dick and not a person”

He pulled the phone to him, crawling up his bed and flopping down on his back, holding the phone at arm’s length and focusing on his face.

“Said it before luv. ‘M your willing slave” He rumbled in a low voice, curling his tongue behind his teeth. She visibly trembled, eyes fluttering closed as his words washed over her.

“Only sometimes. Now’s not one of them. Please answer the question?”

“Don’t get emasculated” He said with a shrug “I know what I like, and I want my partner to know I’m enjoying myself. There’s nothing wrong with a bloke moanin’ or screamin’ his pleasure. Think society has some up with some cockeyed shite that if a man is anything other than strong and silent, he’s bloody effeminate or summat. That shaggin’ is supposed to be quiet and tame and only consist of three basic positions or some rot and those that talk about it openly or go against what society says is normal are considered sexually deviant” Fuck he needed a cigarette. He hadn’t realized he’d gone off on a tangent like that, but speaking about something he was so passionate about, ie shagging, always seemed to fire him up.

“Yeah or if woman prefer to be on top or have significantly higher sex drives or want to try something different then she’s automatically a nymphomaniac slut” She annoyingly huffed

“White bread was **_wrong_** , sweetheart. There is **_nothing_** wrong with you. Something wrong with him” He growled angrily

“I know that” She agreed “I know that now. I let him make me think there was something wrong with me. I let him do that for far too long. He made me believe that the things I wanted were only for bad girls. That good girlfriends didn’t want to do such lewd things. Didn’t want to dominate them, to take control. He tried so hard to control me”

“’s the thing of it though innit? You can’t be controlled luv. Pure fire you are. Primal. Wild. Force of bloody nature. You try and control it, only gonna get burned”

“That doesn’t scare you?” A hesitancy there, as though she was giving him another out. As if he’d ever take it.

“No” He murmured firmly. “Never going to try and control you. No risk of burn”

“Mmm” a contented sigh falling from her lips, followed by a tiny yawn.

“Sound knackered luv”

“A bit. I guess today took a lot more out of me than I thought. I guess Will and I really did shop till we dropped”

“Glad you birds got to have some fun though. You deserve it”

She snorted “Your only saying that because you know you’re getting some benefit from it”

He grinned and waggled his eyebrows temptingly “’S only part of it pet. Really am glad that you had a good time. You should get some kip”

“I will” She agreed, another yawn escaping her “Your hair is curly” She murmured sleepily

“Oh bloody hell. Now I know your tired”

“It’s cute. How it’s all swirly and soft and makes you look so cute and boyish. Not that you’re not cute when its gelled up or slicked back. Just different” She rambled “There’s a difference you know, between cute and hot. But your still hot when you have the punk hair and your hot when have the curlies too”

“Take that back. Not soddin cute” He growled, lowering the phone as he turned on his side

“Aww. Did I poke a hole in Spiky’s armor? Wassa matter? I thought you couldn’t be emasculated” She taunted with a slurred voice

“Go. To. Bed. You. Infuriating. Chit” He ground out each word as though they were acid

“Fine. Fine” She muttered waving his hand away. She paused for a moment and he thought perhaps she’d fallen asleep that fast, with her phone still in hand, until he heard her speaking again. Softly this time, no more than a whisper, barely holding on from falling into sleep.

“Spike?”

“Yeah pet”

Another pause and sleepy yawn

“Can you sing?”

 _Bit out of left field there, eh pet? Got not bloody filter when your delirious with exhaustion. Bloody fuck. Said I was never gonna lie to the girl didn’t I?_ He sighed in resignation

“Dunno how well, being as I don’t perform for live people. But I suppose I can carry a tune, yeah”

“Will you…will you sing me something? To help me go to sleep?”

“Sounds like you’re ready to drop pet. Don’t think you need my help”

“Maybe not but…I want it. I want to hear you. Please Spike? Please?”

The girl pouted. Actually fucking pouted over the phone, sticking out that bitable lip right where he could bloody see it. Sweet lips were drawn back in a frown and he wanted nothing more than to kiss it right off her face and replace it with a smile.

“Fine” He grumbled

“Yay!” She squealed gleefully, climbing into her bed and scrambling under covers.

“All settled then? Alarm set?”

She nodded slowly, eyelids already fluttering as she fought to keep them open. He was quiet at first, his voice hushed as though he was hesitant on waking up some third party that didn’t exist. He wasn’t sure how in tune he was with the song, only knew that the words fell from his lips far more easily then he’d let on.

_Hey Jude, don’t make it bad. Take a sad song, and make it better. Remember to let her into your heart, Then you can start to make it better_

“Hey” She mumbled sleepily, roused by the familiar lyrics “I know this one”

It was that little smile, tat tiny quirk of her lips that kept him going, voice growing in volume and confidence.

_Hey Jude, don’t be afraid. You were made to go out and get her. The minute you let her under your skin, then you begin, to make it better._

He was surprised at how comfortable this was. At doing something that he felt left him wide open. Exposed the deepest reaches of his inner soul, laid bare to the crimson colored viscera, the soft and squishy poet beneath all the hard steel and leather.

_And anytime you feel the pain. Hey Jude, refrain. Don’t carry the weight of the world upon your shoulders. For well you know that it’s a fool, who plays it cool. By making his world a little colder._

“Mmm Spike. So pretty. Your voice is all low and rumbly and sexy” She whispered “Shouldn’t have asked you to sing. Now I just want to hear you talk”

“Think you just like the accent sweetheart” He whispered back, joking with her to take the attention off his singing voice

“No” She giggled “Though it is sexy. Dunno how I ended up with a gorgeous English guy. I mean seriously William. I think your prettier than me. Not exactly what every girl wants to admit”

“Bollocks. Not prettier than you, not even close. Even with these devilish good looks” He praised flashing teeth and tongue “You’re the bloody sun luv. Outshinin’ everyone on this mortal plane”

“So sweet” She mumbled, voice quieting and losing its fight

 _Hey Jude, don’t let me down. You have found her, now go and get her. Remember to let her into your heart. Then you can start to make it better._ He dropped his voice low and husky as he came to the end of those lines, their significance not lost on him. The steady sound of her rhythmic breathing let him know that somewhere between the end of their conversation and the past verse she had finally passed out.

“Goodnight sweetheart” He murmured into the phone, wanting another look at her pretty face but finding in her unconsciousness she’d dropped her phone and found out that all hotels, even posh ones in Milan, still had the same shitty cut and paste bed sheets and decor. “Love you” He whispered, barely a noise but still his throat tightened, and his heart pounded in his head. It felt so…right. He ended the call with a smile, staring at the empty black screen for a moment longer before setting an alarm of his own and plugging it in to charge.

As he rolled about in the bed trying to get comfortable, he found he needed to adjust a bit as he now had the cold steel cage between his legs. It wasn’t an unfamiliar feeling, rather grounding when he thought about it, but it had been much too long since the last time and its presence required some minor changes to be made. _Gonna be bleedin torture tomorrow. Morning wood’s gonna be a right bitch. But…did it to m’self I’spose. Ahh well. Best get some kip ole chap. Long day ahead._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quotes from Buffy the Vampire Slayer episodes - Once More with Feeling, Into the Woods, Something Blue, Touched and Crush  
> I do not own Buffy the Vampire Slayer or any of Joss's works
> 
> Quote from Ben Parker (Spiderman) I do not own Marvel or any of its characters
> 
> Songs Used in this chapter: El Dorado -Agent Orange, Hey Jude - The Beatles
> 
> Once again, I swear I'll get that Spotify playlist up at some point.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spike's conference and more fluffy bonding. Complete with natural Spike sexyness.

If there was ever something Spike wished he wasn’t right about, it was about how bloody awful it was to be wearing a cock cage and get morning wood. Or, the beginnings of morning wood anyways, before it became quite painful. That had been a thoroughly vicious wake up call. He felt the involuntary swelling as soon as he was roused from unconsciousness by the trilling of his phone alarm and ground his teeth in pain. _Bloody hell._ It had taken several moments of meditative thoughts and standing under freezing water to get the damned thing down and that was before he checked his phone and she’d left him two messages in his sleep. The first, from early this morning read”

/Morning! Flight is leaving soon. I’ll be in the air for quite a while. Text you when I land. I hope the panel goes well today!/

The second was sent moments after the first and had him once again needing to find new and better ways to bring his damn cockstand down.

/You better still be wearing that cage. I know you have the key and I have no way of monitoring whether your actually still in it, but I’m trusting you to listen to me Spike. I’ll be able to tell when I see you if you were wearing it the whole time. Be a good boy/

Another quick cold shower was required after that in order to slow his blood and force his riotous cock and balls to be complacent within their prison. He dressed himself the way he always did in public. Tight black jeans, black shirt, doc martins and complete with silver rings and necklaces and the armor that was his duster. He figured after months of hiatus he should step back into the spotlight with the same togs as when he left. Poof. Like nothing happened. Bloody magic trick it was. _Presto! I’ve emerged over a year later **exactly** the same as when I’d left_.

The car picking him up was supposed to be here at 9, and of course it had to be a soddin limousine _Cause that’s not bloody conspicuous_. Though he supposed with all the other limos and their celebrity passengers that were driving around downtown LA during the middle of the bloody summer, he was safe as houses. At least until he got to the convention center.

After checking his phone out of habit, noting the time of 8:47 and for messages from Buffy that he knew did not exist _Bloody Christ you are throughout and undeniably a pathetic git_ he rummaged through the nearly empty fridge and cupboards for something that may constitute as brekkie. Another spot of fruit and a cuppa, _no whiskey this time you tosser_ would have to do until he got his pantry seriously stocked up. _Mental note, text Buffy about her favorite snacks, alcohol and regular consumables when you’ve got the downtime. Can have em stocked by tonight. Just have to ask for someone to drop em off_.

It was safe to say that he had some major issues with trust. There were a finite number of people within his inner circle and most of them weren’t in this state, or even in this country for that matter. Buffy of course, who was probably over the Atlantic right now, Rupert and Olivia in Jolly Old and his mate Clement, Clem for short, who was here in the city of angels but lived all the way on the other fucking side of town. Suffice to say that the only two people that would have keys to his house were Buffy and himself, if she accepted.

It wasn’t but a few moments later that there was a knock at his door, followed by a bloody obnoxious house chime that had to go the first bleedin chance he got. He grabbed his bag full of essential items and quickly made for the door, locking up before being hustled out into the California sun and out of view. _Though what’s the rush mate? Mansion is properly secluded, and the crazies can’t have scoped the place out and found me yet right?_ He grimaced, not wanting to think about the alternative.

“We’ll enter the convention from the south side. There’s less foot traffic there” His driver spoke “You’ll be escorted by a staff member once we arrive. When the day is finished, I’ll pick you back up from the same spot”

“Thanks mate. I’ll need a favor if you don’t mind”

“Anything you need Mr. Pratt”

“Oi! Told you to shove off with that Mr. Pratt shite. Makes me feel like some rich arsehole just ordering you around and the like. Just call me Spike”

“Of course…Spike” He spoke disdainfully, testing the words but still sounding stuffy about it. Like his whole purpose was taken away. “What can I do for you?”

He instructed him that sometime later there would be some items he needed picked up and that he would be having company, a one Buffy Summers, for the foreseeable future. The items were still unknown to him as of now, but he would text him a list of everything she wanted and to drop them off later at the house.

He would give her everything he could. Every material good, every modern luxury, every molecule of himself. Heart, mind, body and soul, he was hers,

The drive in was traffic riddled, but they’d left early enough for him to not worry about being late. Good thing too because there was a bottle of Jack eyeing him up something fierce and while he hadn’t quit drinking alcohol cold turkey, he didn’t want to have to depend on liquid courage at only 9 in the morning and a full day ahead of him. It was hard too, knowing it was sitting there, ripe for the taking. Maybe a nip when he was on his way home, as a reward.

Soon enough he felt the car slow to a crawl as they parked curbside just outside the convention center it seemed and then in a flurry of motion he was being ushered out by a pair of convention security.

“Mr. Pratt” The gentlemen spoke and beckoned him towards the entrance. A hulk of a man both in height and width who looked to be in his late forties, paunchy looking with a sun-bleached face and watery blue eyes underneath wispy looking hair that was starting to recede. His partner was a woman with the skin the color of coffee, thick hair pulled back into a tight bun who looked at him with a rich expressive eyes that darted quickly to the ground when he made eye contact. She smiled demurely and hesitantly reached for the sleeve of his duster, tugging gently and gesturing in their intended direction, a dusky pink blush appearing on her cheeks.

“This way sir” Softly spoken but still authoritative and didn’t **_that_** just remind him of Buffy. That sugar sweet voice like a warblers song at the first golden light of morning. A delicate aria, light and airy, but powerful enough to wake anyone from their slumber. Gods the power of her. How he loved her for it. Craved her for it. Needed her for it. Like a vampire needed blood to survive. Blood. Why did it always have to be blood. _Cause it always has be blood. Blood is life you git. Keeps you warm, gets you hard. Makes you anything other than dead._

He could feel it then, the blood moving within him, swarming south at the thought of Buffy and power and things that lead to blood. His or hers, didn’t matter. Everything was too tight again and he cursed his unrelenting prick. The mere thought of the girl making too difficult to not stop and howl. At the pain of it. The pleasure. _Soddin masochist_ He cursed himself, not being able to hold back the grimace he was fighting, barely able to hold back the whimper.

“Everything alright?” His female escort asked, tentative and still barely able to hold his gaze.

 _Bloody torturous bitch_ He thought affectionately, knowing that she must have foreseen this kind of socially uncomfortable reaction and still, she locked him up tight.

“Right as rain ducks. ‘S this bloody weather yeah? Englishmen like me can’t take this kind of sun and heat so early” He lied through gritted teeth, still managing a half smile.

“Well” She muttered shyly “That makes sense. I can imagine its quite a change. Not to worry, were almost inside now. AC is running full blast”

“Yea, right this way” The older guard spoke, and he was whisked away out of the sunshine and heat.

__

He head to admit, the set up was quite grand. The room looked as though it could seat a couple hundred fans, which he suspected was the general point. Pack as many people into one room, like tiny sardines, and charge a boatload of quid for the opportunity to see how far off his trolley he was. Not that he could blame them. If he was his own fan, he’d half expect himself to be already pissed and working another pint or two during the panel.

He was surrounded by people he knew, or had at least talked to over the phone. The director and screenwriter for them film were here, seated to his immediate left and right. One of his PR agents sat next to the director, fiddling with his phone and on the other side of his screenwriter sat his personal editor for all his books. The five of them rounded out the so called ‘expert’ panel on all things Mythos. He wished that Rupert could have been here to complete the circuit, or at least make him feel as though he wasn’t so alone. He sat in the middle, like bloody King Arthur with his knights of the round and watched as the fans started trickling in, eyes alight as they gazed upon him as though he was back from the dead. Which is what he guessed a year long hiatus amounted to in their eyes.

Their girlish quips and twittering quickly filled the room as the first few started to file in, the hushed quiet of a few voices that rapidly turned into a dull roar of a crowd. Soon, almost every seat was filled. The nerves started to catch up to him. It had been a whole year since he’d last done this. One whole year since he’d faced the judgement of a crowd this large. That sickening feeling of crawling insects and skin that was suddenly too itchy and too tight crept up on him, made his stomach feel like there were butterflies fluttering around. And this was only the first panel of the day. He had a total of five of them. One at each new hour from 10 to 3 that lasted an hour. Five hours to go. 300 Minutes. It didn’t seem too bad when he counted it like that. And every minute that he got closer to 3, was every minute closer that he could be talking to Buffy again. That have him confidence, hope, a reason. Hopefully it would get easier.

__

It did get easier after a while. Most of the panel was his fellow peers talking about different aspects of the new film such as timelines and themes and sort of random trivia information that the girlies went gaga for. It was only the last twenty minutes or so where he was put up on the soap box in a Q and A session which was open to all members of the panel, but really they were mostly just for him. It was especially helpful that the fans that did come up to ask him questions always preceded their questions with words of love and respect. They praised him for his strength during his dark times, that no one, man or woman, should ever have to go through something like that. _No strength you bloody coward. Slimy git. You poured yourself into oblivion most nights you did. Liquid courage aint the same mate. Its weakness is what that is, not strength. You’d all be ashamed of me if you knew the truth. I’d be on the cover of some two bit tabloid and forever in shame._

Still, he thanked them for their kindness and for their continued support. It seemed no matter what he did or how long he was gone, his true fans would always be there for him, So when it came time to announce that there would be a new book in the series, he felt as though he was truly giving something back to them. He gave them about as much information as he had given to Buffy, just a little taste of the direction the book would be going in, and it seemed to satisfy a majority of the population. He still got the mad birds who came up with bedroom eyes and talked in sultry tones asking him inappropriate questions. _Can’t ever escape that can you? Doesn’t matter how long you’ve been gone. Your only lucky that there hasn’t been endless knickers in the post mate. And its just causa’ the move. Sure to start up one way or another._ Though the instances of this were fewer and farther between compared to what he was used to.

His editor and director took all the questions pertaining to the upcoming film. When was the movie set to release? There wasn’t a specific date yet, but with the way filming they were looking at a winter release date. Had the cast already been decided? Yes it had, filming was already well underway, per Spike’s request, the film mainly starred first time actors as a way to give them their breakout roles. Will this film be similar to the style of the book? Absolutely! He didn’t want anything lost in translation between the two media.

One girl, small twig of a thing barely about legal age if he guessed came up shyly and asked something he was both willing and able to answer.

“Hi Mr. Spike” She mumbled quietly, peeking up at him through lashes, as though she couldn’t quite see him. “My name’s Tonya. I really wanted to say that I’m glad that your back. You’ve been my favorite author for a while now. I’ve read all your books so many time, and I recommend them to everyone I know. They’re popular at my book club in school”

“Well thanks pidge. Truly chuffed that hear that” He spoke into the mike, eyeing the young girl first but then lifting his gaze to the great sea of people in front of him, mainly women but some blokes mixed in as well. “From all of you. Truly. From the bottom of my heart. Knowing you all care this much does a fella’s heart good” A round of applause burst out from the crowd, accentuated by a few rallying cries and whistles and other such noises of celebration. When it died down, Tonya began to speak again.

“I was wondering…We’re all super excited to see the movie. Seeing it all come to life. Our favorite characters and places and legends. But….I think all us are worried that it’ll turn out to be like other movies based on books and I guess on half of all of us, we want to know how involved you’re going to be, or have been in the process? And if it’s true to the story…” She visibly blushed “Is it going to be rated to match the content?”

He grinned a true smile. _Someone that actually cares._ “Good question luv. I’m rather excited to say that I’ll be working extremely close to the production team, spending my time on set and supervising a majority of the process in person. I don’t want something of **_mine_** to come out shoddily. Only the best for you all. As for the second bit” He dropped his voice low, side glancing at the director who gave a small terse nod. “The rating will be R at least” He rumbled, tongue curling behind his teeth.

A fresh round of cheers, shouts and loud girlish screams erupted. They had to be calmed down after that bit, all going into mass hysteria. He noticed that Tonya, while receiving plenty of high fives and other celebratory motions was flushed as she made her way back to her seat. It settled down after that, questions as normal, nothing lewd or disrespectful and the time seemed to pass much faster. Which seemed a miracle because every time he was able to check his phone, mainly to see if Buffy had sent him a message yet, he’d catch a glimpse of the time and realized the day was only half over.

It wasn’t until the tail end of the day, sometime around 3:30 that it changed at all. The director was in the middle of answering a question about the timeline of the book to film, something that had been asked repeatedly throughout the day’s panels, so he didn’t feel the need to particularly pay attention, when he felt the buzz in his pocket. Was it okay for him to get on his phone while another was talking?

_Bugger what they think mate. You’re the bloody star here with all the appointments and emails and all that bugaboo. Nothin’ wrong with just checkin’ for a tic or two. We both know its Buffy anyhow. Who else would it be? Just a quick look then._

In the end, it was his need for her that won out. It didn’t take long, no more than a few seconds of glancing down at his side, his peripherals on the crowd. He caught the confused looks from some of them and felt a twinge of guilt for the way some of them were looking at him, but the moment he saw a new message from her, everything else seemed to fade out. Eagerly he opened it. Happy for just a simple hello or how are you but Holy Christ! He clicked it off and shoved it back in his pocket like it burned him. Beside him, the screenwriter gave him a startled and confused look.

He was decent at controlling his emotions, most of that time that was. Had been doing it for years now. A stone defense built up to weather the ongoing storm that was Drusilla, Liam and Darla, as well as any negative comments or statements made about his books or himself. He was used to it. Good at it. Made a ton of quid in poker causa his poker face. But he wondered how much they had been able to see as his mask slipped a bit upon revealing her message. Thank Christ his groin was covered by the table and he was conveniently locked away within his cage, which oh God! Did that sudden surge of blood bleedin hurt. _Bloody hell woman! If I was ever not sure of your ability to make a man pay for how he wronged you, if I ever doubted your ability to punish, I’m bloody well sorry._

He had only gotten the briefest of glances, figuring this to be more of an after work kind of exploration what with the soddin **_PORN_** and all. She’d sent him a picture. Of herself. An extremely provocative one. While he was in the middle of a panel.

_Bitch did it on purpose. Knew I couldn’t resist opening it knowing it was her. Knew I’d be in front of lotsa people. I see you luv, what you’re doing. Teaching me to control myself in challenging situations. What’re you to have me do tomorrow night then?_

He cursed himself for spurring his prick on again, eager to rise when the matter involved Buffy, not knowing the pain it caused until it was too late. Sweet pleasure pain that had him nearly reeling in his seat and praying for the remainder of the panel to blink of existence so he could sod off and be alone again.

In a daze he overheard his director finish up answering some birds question about the choice of actors in the film and then called that there would be no further questions. He invited them to remain silent while Spike made a few exiting remarks. He honestly didn’t remember speaking a single word of them, and for the first time in his life he was completely sober while it was happening. But then there was applause and cheering so he must have done something right. He got ‘good to see you again’s and ‘we’ll talk soon’ from the other guests, along with a few confused faces, but even those were all in the same haze. His head was so overstimulated with the blissful image of Buffy that he had waiting for him that everything and anyone around him was all a blur. He had Buffy tunnel vision.

He honestly hadn’t realized that he was being escorted outside until he felt the hot California sunshine on his face, warming his clothes. And then he was being shuttled back into the car again, back into the air conditioned cab. Alone again, save for the driver.

“Home, Spike?”

“Uh yeah. Thanks mate” He eyed the divider with hesitation, then pressed the button to bring it up, cutting him off and making the whole limo seem a bit more private. His phone came out immediately and with a reverent groan he greedily took her photo in, appreciating it in all its glory. She was laying prone and oh so very naked, arms crossed over top her breasts, concealing them. Her head looking over her dominant shoulder, sunshine locks draped around her like liquid gold and those verdant eyes darkened in time locked lust. Her sun kissed skin nearly glowed against the black sheets she was laying on and she somehow managed to just barely cover up her arse with a convenient pose. Toned legs bent up with delicate ankles crossed just so. Which, as much as he wanted to see all her delightful naughty bits, he still wanted to see them in person for the first time and he loved that she’d taken the photo remembering that.

At the sight of the tastefully nude Buffy he felt his blood rush south once again, his pitifully locked up prick attempting to strain against the confines of steel and causing that ache of delightful pain once more. She was trying to kill him. Tease him until his cock was too tender for whatever she had planned for him. He knew he was being punished but Christ she must know that this was just as good a way to turn him on too.

He looked at it again. At the expression on her face; sultry, perfectly shaped lips parted slightly, an expression that made him want to draw her in and start snogging her and never let her go. Bone melting kisses, deep and passionate like the ones they had shared on the plane, where he felt like he got lost in her for hours. Lost within the sweet taste of her lips and the heat of her mouth. Lead astray by her siren song of moans and mewls. He would spend forever just kissing her if he could. Kissing her mouth, her jaw, her throat. Lines of kisses down her sternum, her clavicle, a top each hardened nipple, the planes of her stomach, the baby soft skin of her bare outer lips, the rise of her hips, all the way down to her toes and back. He wanted to see her all laid out and bare to him. _Bloody hell. You wicked little minx._

/You are so beautiful. This is such a gift you have given me/ Within moments; he had a reply.

/Figured you deserved a little treat. You’ve been good, haven’t you?/

/Course luv. Still locked up tight. Want to see?/

/Maybe later. I’m kinda in a very public area right now/

/Oh and I wasn’t? Deviant little thing you are. Naughty, Naughty. Was sittin’ all chum like with another bloke/

/He didn’t see it did he? :S/

/Don’t think so. Once I saw what it was I closed it up pretty quick. Don’t want anyone else seeing my girl/ He growled possessively

/Well…good. I don’t exactly want to advertise either. Not to anyone but you/

/And Red of course ;p/

/Of course you figured that out. **_How_** did you figure that out?/

/Pretty easily. Your whole delectable body was in the photo. Someone had to take the picture innit? Naughty little girl. Teasin’ your lesbian friend with a peek of the goods/

/Willow is just a friend! She was being nice and oh god….was that really mean of me?/

/Maybe a little. But I’ll overlook it on account of it got me this beautiful work of art/

/Your so incredibly sweet and such an amazing boost to the ego. I don’t think I’ve been called all the synonyms for beautiful within a 10 minute conversation/

/Hardly all of them. Suppose I can figure a way to fit em all in. You deserve nothing less/

/Now your just making fun of me/

/Course not luv. Mean every syllable. Now I have another matter entirely to ask of you. Tell me what you like to have around the house. Food, snacks, objects of want and necessity/

/Spike, we’ve been over this. You don’t have to buy me anything. I’m perfectly capable of bringing my own snacks and stuff/

/And I told you that it’s my money to spend. Want to take care of you. Want you to feel like you belong there. Want it to feel like home/

He stared at his text and panicked _Too far. Too soon._ So he quickly sent a follow up message

/A second home. A home away from home that is/

/I don’t think that’s going to be a problem/

/Really?/ His heart fluttered with optimism. _Maybe not too far?_

/Of course you dolt. I like being around you. I like how you make me feel. So if that means I spend most of my time there, then I will. And if that means that I concede and tell you the things I like, well then fine. See this? The giving in and losing thing? Don’t get used to it/

/Oh Summers, I don’t plan to/

She rattled off list, a short one at first, but one he managed to keep making longer by in her words ‘badgering the fuck out of her’ which of course, sounded awfully similar to something else that he’d rather be doing to her. He was half surprised that the damned eager thing in his trousers kept trying after so many painful attempts. _No you aren’t you pillock. You’re the one who likes this. Craves the pleasure the pain causes_. She broke his chain of thought with another message.

/I think we need to go over the logistics of tomorrow. But I’d rather by speaking rather than text message. Are you busy?/

/On route home how. Need a quick rinse off too, after that I’m all yours/

/You sound like yours in a spy movie or something military based/

/Could play that part if you like/

/A world of no. I’ve had enough covert lingo and macho attitude to last me several lifetimes, thank you/

/Bloody hell. Sorry luv. Wasn’t thinking with the right head there/

/It’s okay. I’m not mad or anything. Just know that those particular dress ups have been redacted from the experimental roleplay list. Actually no, they’ve just been completely removed/

/Oh ho ho. So there’s a list is there? What else is on there? Doctor? Policemen? Pizza Delivery Boy?/

/Stop. Oh god, I’m so embarrassed now/

/Don’t be. Been over this pet. There’s nothing wrong with liking the things you do. Sex of any kind shouldn’t be judged or make you feel repressed. It should free you/

He waited a few moments before her next text came in, worried that she would retreat into herself. He lost himself in staring out the tinted windows of the limo, watching skylines and cityscapes disappear into great expenses of property with singular mansions that commanded the eye’s attention, the palm trees that dotted the landscape. After spending nearly three decades in London, a place he thought he would spend with Drusilla until the end of their days, now this sunny hell was his new home. And he would learn to like it, to make it so, even if it took a while, because it was worth it. Buffy was worth everything.

/Vampire/

/What’s that?/

/At the top of my list. You asked what was at the top of my roleplaying list. My answer is Vampire/

/Vampire? Like Dracula? Creature of the night? Eater of blood? That kind?/

/Yes! I know its stupid okay…/

/I didn’t say that. Just wasn’t expecting it. You think I’d make a good vampire?/

/Well sure. You’ve got the bad boy thing going with the leather and piercings. Your inhumanly beautiful. Pale as the moon. Seductive, powerful, not to mention you like the pain thing. It literally sounds like I’m describing a vampire/

/I don’t see it/

/Just channel your inner monster Big Bad. I know you wouldn’t let a lady down/

/Never/

He felt himself starting to swell again at the thought of her fantasy. Stripped of clothing, laid bare on sheets like wine with dozens of votive candles lighting the room. Darkness and light entangled together in a passionate embrace. Kissing up the side of her throat, tonguing her hummingbird pulse, the pounding of her heart like a drum in his head. Savoring the salt of her skin as he bit down to leave his mark on her, to taste her life’s essence.

He hissed in actual pain as real life slammed back into him. The intense ache of his cock as it attempted to harden at all but once again forced down by steel spikes. “Bloody hell” He muttered under his breath, sucking in air, hissing between his teeth. He closed his eyes to think of something, anything, to bring it down again. _Only one more day. Only one. Been through this before for much much longer. This is nothing you git._

It was everything. The intensity of this. His desire for her was on another level compared to all the times and women before. It briefly struck him with a feeling of guilt. For the intense feelings that Buffy made him feel compared to Drusilla. Drusilla, who was his one and only, his soulmate. All those times he said that she was his everything, that there was nothing like what she had with him, that the feelings of pleasure with his dark plum were the pinnacle of his existence.

But no.

He should feel no guilt about this. What he’d had with Drusilla **_had_** been everything, **_had_** been the pinnacle. **_Had_**. Now there was Buffy. Buffy had shown him that there was more between them now then there had been between himself and Dru for the decade they were together. She showed him that there would be so much more to look forward in the future. He would never forget what he shared with Dru, but she was his past. Buffy was his future. Already she was taking him to new heights. Places he’d never been before. And why? Because she was his. She wanted him. She was devoted to him. Didn’t want to share him. She was giving him her everything. Every bit of strength and passion and respect that he desperately craved from Dru that had never been returned. He would bare the weight of her punishment for as long as she needed him to, and he’d love every bleedin minute of it.

/Call me when your ready?/ She texted a few moments later

/Course luv. Talk to you soon/

Before he forgot he reached into his bag and snagged a loose piece of paper and wrote down the items from Buffy’s list:

Diet soda, low fat yogurt (strawberry or vanilla preferably), fresh fruit (berries, melons, and tropical please!), chocolate bars, BBQ crisps, chocolate biscuits, copious amounts of cheese and bread to go with it, sweet white wine, orange juice, whole grain bread with sandwich fixings and a few other little odds and ends. He noticed the time as they pulled into his driveway, 4:30, normal considering the godawful traffic and lowered the divider between him and the front seat.

“Here’s that list. I appreciate it. Get the good stuff too. The best name brands, organic. Oh and I added a few things on for myself too”

“Of course….Spike. I’ll be back with these soon”

“Cheers mate” He muttered thankfully before exiting the air conditioned vehicle and walked out with purpose to get out of the hot sun.

As soon as he was inside he went straight for the shower, stripping as he went, wanting to rinse off quickly so he could talk to Buffy sooner. His Docs got kicked across the floor. Black undershirt and silk shirt sailing through the air, his duster set lovingly over the back of a chair. The last thing to come off were his jeans, snugly fit around the added hardware at his groin. It took a bit of maneuvering to get them off, but Christ did it feel amazing! The sudden cool air was a blessing against his bits that had been trapped in their denim prison in sweltering temperatures for too long.

As he waited for the water to warm, he palmed over the cage, adjusted the metal ring that was flush against the skin of his pelvis and gave his warmed sac a gentle squeeze. Just once. Just enough to take away a bit of the tightness and pressure from being confined all day. Then he stepped into the spray and took the fastest shower of his life. He speedily dried off as well and slipped into his light black robe, calling her as soon as he could. She picked up on the second ring.

“There he is” She greeted with a soft pleasant voice. He could practically feel the happiness radiating from her and it flooded him with warmth. “How was your day at the panel?”

“Was fine. Went rather well”

“No crazies? No one throwing themselves at you or pelting you with panties?” She chuckled

“None to speak of. Birds behaved themselves for once” He spoke with a scoff “What about you? How’s the Twin City?”

“Windy with a chance of rain and decidedly boring. Not much with the walking around unfortunately” She said in a voice that he knew came along with a pout.

“So my work of art was a product of that eh? Bored were we?”

“Not just that!” She countered quickly, weakly, her voice going up an octave.

“But you have to admit, it played a big part” He rumbled teasingly. She was quiet for a few moments.

“No!...Fine….Maybe” Each word exasperated and then in a voice barely above a whisper she added “Meanie”

He barked with laughter which seemed to catch her off guard because after another beat of silence she was giggling too.

“You are something wonderful Buffy. Infuriating and endearing at the same bloody time”

“Yeah well…your sweet and annoying….so I guess were even then huh?”

“Hmm. Guess so” He murmured, dropping his voice low.

“Cut it out” She pouted. And he knew exactly what she meant. Knew exactly what he was doing and how it would end for him. But it wasn’t about him and it was everything about her. Because he was an addict to the way she sounded, the way she moved, her scent when she was completely uninhibited. This wanton creature who gave up everything she had to offer to him in the throes of her pleasures.

“Cut what out?” He asked feigning innocence.

“You know what” She frustratingly whined “You know what your voice does to me”

God he loved the way she sounded. Of how desperately need her voice was already.

“And I should stop why?”

He heard the intake of her shuddering breath, listened to the rapid breathing, could hear the gears in her pretty head turning some hundreds of miles away. She was thinking about it. He almost had her. Even though they had been doing this the past couple of nights he could never have enough of her. Always, always wanted more.

“Tellin me you don’t want this? Don’t want me to whisper in your ear all the things I want to do to you right now? Bring yourself off for me?” He rasped, getting swept up in the images of her slender fingers trailing down the length of her body and between those creamy thighs, testing, teasing before plunging in deep.

“Of course I want it” Her voice a breathy gasp, airing on a moan.

“So? What’s the problem then luv?”

A beat.

“What about you?”

He chuckled darkly

“Already burstin at the seam kitten. But it wasn’t meant to be about me anyways. I’ll do”

She was quiet for a moment and he thought for a brief second that he had her, that she had given in. He waited for that word of consent. But when she spoke again her voice was firm and had lost its lustful haze.

“Not tonight. As much as I want to. I want to talk about tomorrow and to find out more about you”

He drew in a ragged sigh, upset for only a few seconds, not in the least because of her saying no. She had every right to and of course he would listen to her. Not just because she was his dom, although that did carry a bit of weight around, but because she was a person in a partnership, and she was allowed to say no.

“Are you mad?” She asked with a hesitancy that made his blood start to boil. Because it sounded like there had been someone who hadn’t been okay. Three guesses who.

“Christ Buffy, course not” He practically snarled, running black lacquered nails through his unruly curls. He needed a smoke. He grabbed them from his bedside table and lit one up quickly, holding in the nicotine laden smoke until he felt a buzzing in his head, along his skin before releasing.

“You sound mad”

He sighed, long and heavy, taking another long drag.

“Not at you” He finally spoke after taking a few minutes to cool down a bit. “Brassed off at whoever it was who obviously forced you to so something when you didn’t want to. Played the ‘you can’t leave me hanging card’ cause someone couldn’t deal with a bit of blue balls. Made you feel guilty for sayin’ no” When she didn’t response he pressed on. “Willing to wager it was the enormous hall monitor”

She sighed heavily, defeated. “You’d be correct. I always figured it was just a normal boyfriend thing. I had friends in high school that talked about it. How they’d get guilted into blowjobs because the guy said something stupid and similar or, my personal favorite, ‘well you can see mine; no one will know if I left you hanging” She sneered. “I didn’t think it was going to happen to me. I didn’t think Riley was even capable of it, what with his midwestern farm boy manners” She scoffed “Boy was I wrong”

“Can never really tell what a person’s like just by outward appearance and superficial small talk. Sometimes it takes a lot more digging to find out what someone’s like. Figure out all the nasty skeletons in the closet”

“Mmm hmm” She agreed “What’s that saying? Can’t judge a book by its cover?” She sighed dejectedly “ just wish I would have figured it out sooner. Not just the guilt thing, but the whole secret operations, ultimatum giving thing”

“Can’t blame yourself pet. The boy was a right pillock and he didn’t deserve you”

“Now, where have I heard that before?” She hummed pleasantly

“Some smart sod knows what he’s talkin about I wager. Devilishly handsome too”

“And oh so modest” She bit sarcastically. There was another small gap of silence. “But you’re not upset?” She asked uneasily

“No pet. Not in the slightest” He answered sweetly. His answer must have soothed her because then she was on a different subject

“So how did you want tomorrow to work?”

“Let’s start with the basics then. What time shall I pick you from LAX?”

“The flight it supposed to be in around 3:10. I’ve got to help clean up the plane before I’m cleared to leave. So barring no weird complications, I should be done by 4” She sucked in a nervous breath. “Sorry, looks like we’ll hit rush hour traffic”

“Piffle. Just means more time I get to spend with you. Time to talk. Know full well that were both itchin’ to get back to my place. Waitin’ for the chance to finally be with you again is drivin’ me off my trolley. But I’m still just happy to be around you”

“Yeah. I’m happy too. It all sounds good” She giggled a bit “Never thought I’d be okay with traffic”

“Never been stuck in traffic with me. I’m right fun you know”

“I just bet you are”

“Now. Being as were going to be stuck in traffic, I’m pretty sure I know the answer to this question already but, would you prefer I picked you up in the car or the bike?”

“Ooh” She crooned “God I would love the bike. Pressed up against you. Rumbly motor. Do I even have to ask if you own a pair of leather pants?” She ranted but then paused to let out a long winded sighed “But traffic doesn’t sound very fun on a bike. And I have bags of stuff” She whined

“Bike’s not going anywhere, sweet. And neither I am. You’ll get your chance. Can take a trip out of this ruddy city and into the countryside. To wine country. This might be the only good thing I can say about this bleedin backwater country, and my mom and da are probably rollin’ in their graves at this but….you Yanks make some damned good wine. Some of the best I’ve ever tasted comes from the west coast”

She produced a comically fake gasp.

“A **_Brit_** is admitting to the good ole US of A is better at something compared to them? What about France? Don’t they have like, the best wine ever?”

“Sod. Fuckin. France” He growled “If I never set foot in that blood country ever again—”

“—Wow okay, serious non-likeage of France here”

“The less we say about it, the better. Yes. I like American wine. Yes. I like American bourbon”

“I’m sensing a theme here” She teased.

He sighed heavily, running fingers through bone white curls, still wet from his shower. “Yeah well, was a bit of an alcoholic. And by a bit I mean I was a wretched drunk. Especially in the past year. There was hardly a day where I wasn’t pissed” He scoffed “What you saw on the plane was only a glance pet. Went down a very dark road” He voice dropping low. Not in the way he knew to drive her wild, that whiskey smooth voice that had her keening for him, that fed her autophilia. No, this was something dark and sinister born from that strife that had crawled its way into his head and heart. The demon that lurked in the deepest recesses of his fucked up mind. Born of death and lies and adultery. Of betrayal to sad, pitiful William and a vicious need to protect the weak. Bitter anger and stinging hatred rippled through him, for Liam, for Dru, for himself. For how weak he had become. For how oblivious to the signs and signals. He felt it all the way to his marrow.

“But…its better now…right?” Her soft voice breaking thought he haze. A bright light, soft and glimmering. Ethereal.

“Its—” He started, hesitating, choosing his words carefully. He didn’t want to feel like a project. Something she was going to have to deal with and work on now that she’d tangled herself in his nasty web. An unwanted charity case or some sad sob story. “—Some days are better than other” He mumbled softly, brokenly.

She was quiet for a moment and he hoped to all hell that she wasn’t sitting over there, thinking that she’d made a big mistake by throwing in her lot with him. But then she broke her silence, her voice as soft as his.

“After my mom died, I felt like the world was crumbling around me. I was suddenly just…alone. I came home from school one day and—” Her breath hitched. “—I found her. Just…lying there. Part of me just…knew…what was going on. What it meant. But the other—” She sucked in another shaky breath. He could hear it, she was on the cusp of tears and as much as he wanted to stop her and say everything was going to be okay, he realized this was a big admission for her. She hadn’t talked about it before. She’d skated around it before. He had known there was a death in her family, someone close to her, and he figured it was a parent from the way she spoke before.

_Oh…did she die? Is this a way to take her with you? To remember her? I did that once, it really helped me get over the loss. She confessed_

But her admitting this to him now, as a way to comfort him, he realized how big this was. Understood it was because she trusted him enough with this piece of her. That she recognized and understood that they were on a similar emotional level. And it meant everything to him, to have that kind of connection.

“I panicked. I didn’t know what t...to do. I stood there, calling for her like she was going to just…wake up. But…I knew” her voice was thick now. “I called 911 and they told me to start CPR” She sighed frustratingly. “God! I didn’t even start CPR until they told me!” There was another long pause before she spoke again, her voice clearer now, calmer. It was almost like she was telling this story to another person for the first time “They told me at the hospital that nothing could have been done. That she’d already been gone by the time I had even gotten home. That it was quick. No pain”

“What was it?” He questioned softly

“Aneurism. A complication of her brain tumor removal. She passed in seconds”

_Brain tumor. Christ. Means that she’d been dealing with her mum being sick for a while. Hospital visits, surgeries, late nights in a quiet home. All by herself. This is what she meant when she said she was dealing with something important didn’t she? When her tin soldier gave her his ultimatum. She had to be there to take care of mum._

“But then it was all on me. The paperwork, the bills. I filled everything out. I picked out a casket, the flower arrangements. I wrote the obituary; I organized the funeral. I emptied **_everything_** my mom had saved up and all of her insurance into paying for her hospital bills and her funeral. I couldn’t afford to keep our house, so I sold that too. And I did it all on my own. My dad never even showed up. He was too busy off in Spain somewhere with his newest arm piece and Riley had just left me. I’ve got no siblings and no other family to speak of” She was cold, harsh. Still teetering on the edge and fit to burst into tears on a moments noticed, though she was doing a damn good job at keeping steady.

“After she was buried. I fell. I fell into this black hole. I had **_no one_ **in my life. No one to be there for me to stop myself. I drank. I worked myself to the bone. I was alive, but I wasn’t living”

“Know the feeling” He admitted “All too bloody well”

“I know. Its why I feel like I can tell you. Because I trust you and because you understand. Those first couple weeks after she was gone were the worst of my life. Spending all that time alone in the dark with my thoughts. I wasn’t myself, and it took me a long time to climb out from the hole I put myself in. But I knew my mom wouldn’t want me to give up. So I didn’t. I kept going. Kept fighting. I’m not perfect. I slipped up a lot. I still slip up. But I’m in a way better place than I was before. Having an outlet helped. I owe that part of my recovery to you” The first hints of real happiness creeping in her voice, a lightness that wasn’t there before.

“Buffy…that’s…”

“A lot to put on someone, I know. I mean let’s face it. We’ve known each other for a total of what? A week maybe? Less? But it doesn’t feel that way. Not to me”

“Me neither” He agreed softly “Feels like I’ve known you for years. Seems a mite repetitive and a bit like I’m stealing your line but Buffy, luv, without you, that day on the plane, I wouldn’t be standing here. Wouldn’t have tried to claw my way out of the bottle I’d buried myself in. Mind you, I was still in it those two weeks in Rio but…without that little sliver of hope….Don’t think Id’a ever thought about moving on for good. You’re a wonder pet. I’m sorry you had to go through all of that alone”

_Girl has unimaginable abandonment issues. Da, mum, wanker of an ex. People leavin’ her left and right. Not so different are we now pet? The people we love the most always seem to cause the most damage. Good thing for you little darlin, I’ve got resolve. Got stayin power. Won’t leave you unless you make me and even then I won’t go down without a brawl._

“It hurt” She spoke with a tremble. “It hurt so much. Doing it all by myself. But I think it made me a better person” He heard her sniffle a bit before clearing her throat. “And then there was you. A catalyst for a new me. A better me”

“Stronger” He interrupted

“What?”

“Not better. Better implies that the person you were before wasn’t as good; lesser. I’m hard pressed to believe that Buffy Summers pre the meeting of yours truly was anything less then what you are now. There is **_nothing_** lesser about you. No luv. You’ve just gotten stronger. It was always there, that strength, curled beneath the surface. A lioness. All sleek and tawny. Powerful and fierce. She just needed to be let loose”

“Stronger” She repeated, and he could hear the smile in her voice. “I like that”

“Strongest person I’ve ever met Buffy. Inside and out” He dropped his voice again, the way he knew she liked, the one that made her moan and shiver “Never felt someone so bloody strong. Crush me good, make it hurt in all the right ways”

Her reaction was instantaneous, that little moan, low in the back of her throat, heady and powerful. “It’s impossibly fair that your able to do that so fast” She pouted

“Yeah? And what would that be luv?”

“Stop phishing. You know what”

“Doesn’t mean I don’t like hearing it. Come now luv, since I’ve known you, you’ve never been one to be modest. Never chosen your words carefully. Forthright you are. It’s bloody intoxicating”

“Spike” She whined “Later. Please. We’re never going to get anything planned if we skip straight to sex”

He clicked his tongue, certainly unhappy that she had now twice deterred him from pleasuring her. He wanted to spend every waking moment drawing out the sounds of her rapture, that addictive moment of her peak.

“Can’t help myself pet. We’re bloody brilliant at shagging. Suppose your right though” He mumbled. He took a moment to settle himself, calm the swirling lust filled thoughts in his head and once again his oh too eager cock. “So we save the bike for a nice day trip and I pick you up in my DeSoto. Plenty of room for all your bags, front bench seat so you can press your gorgeous self up next to me as we sit through the drull of SoCo traffic whilst I give you an education on music”

“So wait…not **_only_** do I have to sit through California rush hour traffic with one British guy talking my ear off, I also have to listen to a **_bunch_** of old British guys screaming about how the government sucked and anarchy and whatever else they were unhappy about. Maybe I’ll just take a cab” She gasped, feigning annoyance

“Oi. You were the one who said you wanted to in the first place. You said and I quote “If they’re that important to you, I’ll listen to them. I want to get to know the music you like, end quote” He started to ramble about how punk music of the 70s and 80’s was extremely progressive for its time and how it influenced a lot of other music now a days when he heard her chuckling in the background and realized…

“You little mix” he rumbled salaciously “Your bloody playing with me”

“Almost had you too, Big Bad. Of course I want to listen to them. There’s no guarantee that I’ll like them all, but everything deserves a fair shot right?”

“Everything except that edm….synth…oh bloody hell that electronic rubbish. Can’t understand it and I very don’t much care to”

She chuckled “Yeah I don’t get it much either. So then we drive from the airport to my apartment so I can get everything I’ll need for at least a few days”

“Days” He spoke softly under his breath.

She made a small contented noise in response. “Yeah Spike. Days. Plural. You didn’t think after 6 months I’d be satisfied with just a sleepover did you?”

“Not gonna be sleeping much anyways kitten” He purred

“Down boy” She commanded and just like that he backed off. Obeyed her like the good little sub he was. He recognized an order when he heard one.

“Sorry goddess. Won’t happen again”

“Better not. Jeez Spike, that all you ever think about?” She sounded frustrated and he flinched at the thought of disappointing her. He didn’t want her to think that he only had a one track mind or that his interest in her was purely physical. Because it wasn’t. He’d gone long periods of time without being intimate, could do it again. Not that he **_wanted_** to, because bloody hell, he was a man after all. He craved the heat and sweat and physical intensity of sex. Craved the sounds and smells and tastes. He craved her. He wanted to have her in any way his twisted mind could think of, so badly that it sometimes felt like real physical pain. But he could be patient. Would be patient.

“No goddess. No. I can be more than that. So much more. Just want you so badly” He realized how poncy he sounded, how desperate. But she had to know how intense he felt about this, about how much it meant to him. He heard her intake of breath and the breathy sigh that followed.

“I know. God I know Spike. I want you too. You **_have_** to know that. There’s never been someone else as good and intense as you. That makes me feel the way I do” her voice carried a revenant tone that made his heart flutter in his chest. “But if remember correctly, I put you in a cage because you couldn’t control yourself” her tone switching to something more threatening, switching back to her domina role. “I told you that second night of talking that I wanted your obedience, didn’t I?”

“You did at that. And I want to give it to you, honest”

“But you’ve already disobeyed me, so I had to lock up my bad boy for two whole days to punish him. Hoping that he hasn’t lied to me about staying contained because he’s got the key and no supervision”

“No” He protested quickly, pleading. “No, no. Haven’t lied. Promise you goddess”

“Hush” She bit angrily, and he quieted immediately, heart racing as she lapsed into a great pregnant pause. Another test? _Don’t bollox it up_ “I’m all for the wanting Spike. But when we’re playing, I need you to listen and I certainly don’t want a lot of sass. And since that filthy mouth of your is chock full of snark, I’m going to need you to work extra hard to be a good boy for me. And you **_do_** want to be a good boy for me, don’t you baby?”

The shudder that went through him was completely and unavoidably involuntary. It crackled through him like lightning and made every hair on his body stand on end, his heart beating like a cornered animal. If he’d not been laying down in his bed, he would have surely fallen straight to his knees for her.

“God yes”

She chuckled darkly

“Yes what?”

“Yes goddess” He amended

“Good. Now. Where was I?” She clicked her tongue three times in thought. “Oh yeah. I’ll get enough clothes and things for a few days and then we’ll go to your mansion.” There was a define girly squeal and a fit of happy giggles “Oh god Spike. You have a mansion!” The fierceness of her voice fled and was replaced by an awed wonder. “I can’t wait to see it”

“I’ll give you the full tour luv. Every room, every amenity. Every nook and cranny. Already told you that you can have the rooms you want for whatever you want” _And don’t you dare say a bleedin word about the exact amount of bedrooms you have you git or your prick’ll remain locked away for the foreseeable future._

“Well maybe not **_all_** of them, but you had me at amenity. Care to clue a girl in?” Her voice wistful

“Rather extensive library. Large professional kitchen, gas stoves of course, Pretty nice telly” He listed off. She made an exasperated whine in response.

“You know what I mean Spike”

He chuckled at her child like mentality and found himself quickly falling in love with every little bit of her. That she could be a professional businesswoman, a sultry temptress and a whimsically spirited girl all at once. He wanted to get to know her, **_really_** get to know everything that made up Buffy Summers as a person.

“I do at that. Just like teasin’ you is all”

She huffed “Well get it out now bleach boy, cause come tomorrow evening, I’m not going to tolerate any of your crap”

He drew in a ragged breath

“Amenities. Now”

He listed through the things he figured she wanted to hear about; giant walk in closets, walk through shower, lovely heated pool and a generously sized hot tub. Each admission gaining a more emphatic reaction with increasingly high pitched ‘oooohs.’ But in spite of all that, not once did he get the feeling that her interest in the physical comforts of his home were solely material. It was always a worry that those around him were after his wealth or the things he owned. But Buffy’s interest didn’t feel like that at all, it felt genuine. Everything about her was. For once, he didn’t have to be suspicious, didn’t feel anxious about letting some in after so much damage had been done. He didn’t feel the need to guard his heart so closely and that made him want to spill everything to her. Every little secret that he had bottled up inside. All the things that no one else knew.

“I can cook for you” The words falling from his lips before he could stop them “If you like” _Guess the secrets are comin’ out a lot faster than we both thought_. _Though cooking is hardly something to take to ones grave._

“You cook?” Her curiosity delighted him. He was pleased that she sounded enamored about the admission, rather than skeptical.

“I do. Quite well if I say so myself”

“Are you always this cocky about everything?”

“Think you know me well enough to answer your own question sweetheart”

“I like the idea of you cooking. It’s very…sophisticated” She purred

“Not just a pretty face you know”

“Hmm, I think I’m beginning to see that”

“What can I make for you pet?”

“Surprise me. Something filling enough to uh…keep us going but light enough that we don’t feel heavy and gross”

“D’u always plan ahead for a session like this luv?” He teased

“As a matter of fact I do, mister” She paused and became serious. “When I’m in charge of someone, I’m responsible for them. It may not seem that way during a scene because they’re the ones pleasing me, responsible for **_my_** pleasure but—”

“—They trust you to take care of them” He spoke softly, calling upon his own memories. “Even if you force them outside of their comfort zone, hurt them like they ask, they know your still there to keep them safe as houses”

“Uh yeah. Exactly. Sounds like you might be talking from experience again”

He was quiet for a few moments. Not because he didn’t want to share. The opposite really. He wanted to share everything with her, but he could already feel himself getting emotional. He needed to take a few tics to calm his mind, organize his thoughts.

“Past few months before I moved here, I had a domina back in London. Probably the first time I can actually say I felt trust between parties. She treated me with respect and more kindness than I deserved, considering I’d show up pissed sometimes. With Dru, I was just her dog” He sneered. “At the time, I trusted her but…I don’t really think I knew what trust was. Was so blinded by my love for her that I couldn’t see what was going on in front of me” He felt his voice getting thick and had to bite back threatening tears. _Quit spilling useless buckets of salt over the bitch and move on already, stupid berk. This poncy routine is gonna get real old, real fast mate and eventually she’s gonna get tired of playin’ therapist._

“Spike. I’m not like her. You set your limits and I’ll stick to them. You say no, you call yellow or red, I back the hell off and we do something else. I want you to please me and during a scene I might be harsh or punish you, but I promise you I’m not going to hurt you”

She sounded so sweet, so caring, so earnest. Slowly but surely she was managing to navigate and untangle the brambles that encircled their thorns around his head and heart.

“Even if I want it?” He questioned expectantly, low and gravelly. Because as cocky as he was with her and with sex in general. As dominating as he could be, it was more in his nature to be forced to his back and let someone else take complete control.

She sucked in her breath and groaned. “Oh screw it. We can talk more about it later. Make me cum, Spike”

“With pleasure”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quote from: The Gift


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spike and Buffy finally reconnect

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This WIP is coming to a close. With our main event left in the following chapter, Curative Reconnection will draw to a close. I've been working on a new title for the past couple weeks but so far only have three chapters and part of a fourth written down. Until I've got some more written I'll be going back to some of my other works and fixing them up a bit (I've noticed some grammatical issues and such). I'm also thinking about taking them to Elysian Fields, but haven't decided anything as of yet. 
> 
> Writing fluffy/bantery Spuffy is all good and well to me, but its the smut that I have the most fun with, especially smut that comes in the BDSM variety, something I identify very closely with.

There was nothing. Nothing. Worse than downtown Los Angeles rush hour traffic. The bloody apocalypse could come, all rains of bloods and plagues of locusts and giant demon snake monsters that spit fire and sucked the marrow from your bones and he would still take that ten times over rather than sit here through this rubbish.

He loved his DeSoto like it was his own child, but sitting in the black box nearly baking in the sun like it was hell on fucking earth without the comfort of air conditioning was an unpleasant experience for him and he would have hated for Buffy to get stuck in this mess. Which is why he considered it a small blessing that he was the one getting caught in this traffic while the sun was at its most excruciating point and she would hopefully be spared. Of course that meant he was going to be late to the airport and their plans were going to be pushed back a bit.

The trip shouldn’t have taken more than three quarters of the hour but now as he checked the dashboard clock he saw it already had been nearly three times that. Their original meeting time of around 4pm had long since passed and he was looking at getting there sometime around 6. If he had only left on time maybe he wouldn’t be in this rotten mess.

He regrettably made her aware of his mistake, letting her know that he’d be very late and that he was sorry, to which she replied:

/LA is shitty like that sometimes. Don’t worry about it baby, we’ll see each other soon/

The disappointment of having to wait even longer to see his gorgeous girl pained him deeply. So close, yet so soddin far away. Literally. He could bloody well see the airport now. Like some mythical beast rising out of the smog of this shit stain of a city. If only there weren’t hundreds of other tossers trying to go the exact same place at the exact same time.

Only the comforting sounds of the steady bass, Danzig’s smooth voice belting about his eternal love for his vampire girl, and the thought of being reunited with Buffy after nearly a year was getting him through this seemingly unending nightmare. He crawled through miles and miles of traffic, stop and go. Stop and bloody go. Inching over hot asphalt and the smell of exhaust. Constantly having to switch gears; upshift, downshift, perfectly operating his baby without stalling once, though he’d come close when some idjit came too close to him, obviously not realizing that some people still drove manual cars. Until finally. Finally, he was pulling off for the exit to LAX, cruising down and around the bend to the pickup section of the airport.

He pulled his phone out in blatant disregard for whatever legal entities may be watching and shot her a quick text.

/Pullin up to arrivals luv. Get your pretty little self out here/

This was it. The moment he was waiting for. A year later and he was finally going to see her again. Really see her. The knots in his belly only grew tighter, wrapped themselves around each other in indiscernible ways so it felt as though there was a ball of hot and heavy viscera just weighing him down. His heart was pounding in his throat. He passed a couple terminals, 1,2,3, all the bloody same but not where he wanted to be. He rapped his fingers against the wheel in a nervous gesture as he got closer and closer. But he could see it now, the signs for terminal B, the place where she’d be waiting for him.

He mused over the miracle of modern technology, specifically video chatting and how it allowed them to connect after all that time and space apart with just a string of digits and some fancy chips. And how that was all good and bloody well, allowing him to ease the ache and see his fair maiden some hundreds or thousands of miles away over a tiny screen, but there was nothing like seeing her in the flesh. Out of the dozens of people, families and singles alike, weaving in and out of each other’s way like a beehive, organized chaos, he spotted her.

Standing there, sunlight shining down on her golden tresses, capturing the light and reflecting it back like a holy beacon. And oh Christ he would never get that image out of his head. It was forever burned under his eyelids, deep in his skull, imbedded within his hippocampus. She wore a simple white sundress and strappy white sandals to match and the only thing he thought she was missing was a pair of fluffy wings and a golden halo. Some part little angel, some part little devil and something altogether otherworldly. He watched as she scanned the school of circling vehicles, looking for any sign of the black monstrosity he told her to keep an eye out for and caught the **_exact_** moment that she turned her gaze upon the ancient car and then locked eyes with him.

The smile that cracked across her face was instantaneous and thoroughly uninhibited. She waved emphatically at him, grabbing at her luggage and started to haul it towards him.

“Oh no, there’ll be none of that Summers” He growled to himself, cutting the wheel and pushing the great mechanical menace forward abruptly, getting a bit too close to the bloke in front of him, but not caring in the slightest. He shut off the great engine and pushed himself out of the bench seat and rounded the front of the car, all the while keeping his eyes trained on her until at last, at last he was standing in front of her again.

For a moment there were no words. He could only stare into those green eyes, lit up by the sun and showing flecks of gold and brown and they reminded him of a forest on a summer day where the sun lay low in the sky and filtered through the trees. He couldn’t hear anything else around him; the conversations of chatting families, of idling cars and the deep thrum of airplanes overhead just dropped away. Everything but her breathing, the tiny sound of her sigh, the content hum in the back of her throat as she eyed him up. Her gaze raked over him, taking him in flesh and blood for the first time in twelve months. She set her luggage down at her side and he felt tiny fingers delve under his duster and encircle around him as they settled around his hips, seeking flesh. She pressed herself against him, her cheek pressed against his chest, over his heart which was thumping wildly at her affectionate greeting. Only seconds ticked by before his limbs caught up with his brain screaming at them to work, to move to wrap themselves around her.

She raised on her tiptoes and pressed her cheek to nuzzle at his throat, breath tickling at his neck, and then her lips pressed softly against that spot that had drove him wild so many months ago. He shuddered and wrapped one arm tight around her waist while the other cupped her jaw, lifting her up, up, bringing her closer to him until he felt her against his lips.

And how bloody sweet they were. They came together in a kiss that nearly had him weeping, sodding ponce that he was. It felt of longing, a touch of desperation, of home. Neither made any attempt to deepen the kiss further and her lips melded to his, moving slowly but with an intensity that sent waves of rapturous pleasure tingling down every nerve. He couldn’t get enough. He heard her hum in pleasure before she pulled away, petal pink lips open slightly as she licked them, biting the bottom one in a blatant display of lust.

He could see the ardor in her eyes, the way they already looked glazed over and how they roamed over him like she had x-ray vision and she was taking mental pictures. He could see her thinking about whether to go back for a second, something deeper, more intimate, something meant for behind closed doors. Then everything started to come back; the sights and sounds of a busy airport terminal and all the people that had stopped and stared as they caught the beginning glimpses of their private show.

Her arms relaxed a bit but still clung around his hips, keeping him close.

“Spike” She murmured affectionately “God how I’ve missed you” He could hear the emotion in her voice. The way her voice became thick, the shaky inhale of breath to steel herself against the coming tears.

“Missed you too” And he found his voice was just as choked. He saw the flicker of her gaze to his lips again and decided for her. Bending to her, he stole another kiss expecting a quick chaste thing, but it seemed his girl had other plans in mind. He felt the hot swipe of her tongue across the seam of his lips begging for entrance, begging wordlessly for so much more. He wanted so much more. Wanted to shag her against the bloody support pillar and didn’t give a damn about the hoards of perverts that would stand around and watch, they’d give em the hottest show they’d ever see. But he kept it simple, chaste, and he felt her pout against him and let out the tiniest of disappointed whimpers.

He pulled away, blown away by the sight of her, panting and pleading, already mussed up and looking good enough to eat.

“All eyes on us baby” He purred against pleading lips, not taking his eyes off her but feeling the pull of eyes on him. She smirked against him and whispered hotly against him

“Don’t care”

“Ahh there’s the little exhibitionist. So eager to give them a show?” A pierced eyebrow quirking

“It’s a hot show” She rasped and looking like she was poised to strike at any moment. He chuckled darkly, the hand at her hip starting to wander up and down her side, flowing over the soft curves of her hips, her waist, over her rib cage.

“That it is luv” Dropping his voice low, pressing his lips to the shell of her ear “Too bad for them, ‘d like you all to myself. Cause if you don’t think I’m ready to shag you up against that pillar there, your daft. Promise I’ll tend to this delicious kink of yours another time. As it is, don’t want these voyeurs to get an eyeful of what’s mine”

She was silent for a moment, save for her erratic breathing but he felt her grip loosen on him.

“That, and you’ve still got this lovely cage on” She whispered sultrily grinding her lower half against him in small movements of her hips. He hissed, both in pleasure from her hips against his own and the sudden rush of blood.

“That…and if we don’t get the bloody hell outta here soon, we’ll likely be surrounded”

“Surrounded?” The movements of her hips came to a halt and she furrowed both eyebrows

“Dating a celebrity now yeah? Don’t exactly blend in with the crowd now do I? We don’t get goin’ soon, some chit is bound to notice. Don’t doubt someone already has. Once it starts, doesn’t stop so easily” He warned

Her gaze raked over him once again, from platinum blonde locks, to the billowing leather duster, down to shit kicking Doc Martins. A stark contrast of black and white with the swagger of his 70’s punk style amongst tank tops, Bermuda shorts, sunglasses and sandals.

“Hmm, guess you’ve got a point” She spoke wearily, looking around now seeming to notice that the longer she looked, the more eyes were fixed on him. She could see their puzzled faces and the wheels turning in their heads as they tried to identify him. “I don’t want to wait any longer” She whispered

“Let’s get you packed up then, pet. Can talk more in the car”

She nodded, following his lead as he hefted one bag and she the other, settling them into the boot of the car. Within moments they were settled into the front seat.

“This is pretty nice looking for such an old car” She admired

“Take care of my girls” He stated plainly, noting the way her lips curved into a smile. He pulled away from the curb and started inching down through the rest of the arrival loop.

“Smells like cigarettes”

“Sorry. Hard habit to quit. Hardest when I’m drivin’. It’ll go away” He apologized “Keep the windows open. Don’t have air condition unfortunately”

She shook her head “No it’s not really a bad thing. I kinda like it. It well….it smells like you”

“D’u mind then? If I light up?”

“No, go ahead”

With practiced ease he drew one out of the carton with his lips, lighting it up while still having complete control of the car. He inhaled deeply, taking in the methylated smoke, feeling the buzz of nicotine already coursing through his body thanks to his blood pumping harder than usual. Nerves or arousal, he wasn’t sure which was the biggest culprit here. _Pretty big mix of both. Body’s practically buzzing for her. Need her closer. Bring her closer._

“C’mere luv” He beckoned “Scoot on over, Bench seat’s good for this” He reached for her, groping for her waist and tugged her against him. She ducked under his muscled arm, settling in against his chest, pretty blonde hair just under his chin. She still smelled like citrus and mint; fresh and bright with swirls of creamy vanilla. So familiar, like nothing had ever changed.

“You’ve lost weight” She mumbled against his chest, puffs of her hot breath against his tee that tickled down to his skin.

“ ‘Appens when you mostly give up the hooch” He snorted bitterly “empty calories and all that rot. Kilos slid off. Why…look bad?”

She fumbled out from under his arm and balked at him. “Look…bad? No. God no Spike. You look great. Still as sexy as the last time I saw you. It makes your cheekbones stand out more, slimmer hips. Leaner. No. Safe to say it’s quite the opposite of bad”

“Hasn’t effected what’s underneath. Promise. Still work out just as much as I did”

“I haven’t seen what’s underneath that shirt of yours, but I’m starting to get an idea”

“Be home soon luv. No secrets after that”

They fell into a lapse of comfortable silence and he took a moment to just breath, to take in the road and the sound and the feeling of her sitting beside him. For the life of him, he never would have imagined this. Considered it a soddin pipe dream. The most he’d ever hope for was to text her once in a while as her friend. He would have been more than happy with that. But now here she was, same Buffy that she was over a year ago. Pressed against him, whispering of their plans and beckoning him with bedroom eyes. His lot in life was always so dismal…never the lucky one. He was---

“It’ll make your cock look ever bigger” She stated out of the blue, her hands slithering at the inside of his thigh, fingertips daintily nudging the cage.

His eyes opened comically wide, shooting a look at her, causing the car to veer to the right as he lost a bit of control. His cigarette fell from between his lips and landed between his legs, the cherry already burning a hole through his upholstery.

“Oh. Bollocks” he growled, swatting it towards the floor and quickly stamping it out “Fuck” He cursed “Buffy. You alright pet?”

“Am I…?” She balked. “I’m so sorry about your car. I didn’t think you’d be so—”

“—Just caught me off guard. Are you okay?”

“But your car! I messed it up! There’s a hole in the seat now” She frowned

“Sod the car. Christ. Just a thing Buffy! Your more important. Now answer the question silly bint” He ground out, frustrated.

“Uh yeah. I’m fine. Not a scratch. We only swerved a little”

He reached for her again and she went willingly, tucking herself back against him and wondered if there was anything in his life that felt so natural, so right.

“Shouldn’t have lost control like that” He growled

“I didn’t think me praising your cock was going to cause that kind of reaction” He mumbled shyly. “You’ve never been modest about it before”

“Not modesty. Just surprised. Bleedin hell woman. You saying that if out of the blue I muttered something about your juicy little cunt you wouldn’t be gobsmacked? He raised a scarred brow and glanced at her, catching the flush of her face.

“Coming from you? Maybe not so much. But I mean…yeah. I guess I would have been a **_little_** startled. He gave her a knowing look and returned his gaze to the road.

“So here’s my plan” She announced after moments and scenery ticked by.

“There’s a plan?” She playfully smacked him

“Course there’s a plan. I’ve only been thinking about this for a few days now. Or…you know…a couple of months” She mumbled quietly

“Ohh ho ho! What’s this? Baby’s been thinking about punishing me for a while now?” He half turned towards her, tilting his head down so she could see when he curled his tongue. And it seemed that she could show him that she was just as playful.

“It shouldn’t come as much of a surprise” her voice dropping low and husky. “You expressed interest in it before and you’ve got this killer bad boy punk look with the spikes and chains. I was lonely, and I missed you. I’ve wanted you **_under_** me ever since our time on the plane”

“Tryin’ to bloody kill me” He growled. His left hand gripped the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white, hissing under his breath as wanting flesh pressed tight against said metal spikes.

“Not long now” She teased

“Too long” He argued, suddenly more intent to get to her apartment faster, switching lanes and driving the great black boat into fifth gear. She didn’t seem fazed by it. Instead, she went right back to talking.

“So I’ll grab a few things from my place. Not much, equipment mainly. When we get back to your place, I’ll need time to set up a few things”

“ ‘S fine. I’ll take that time to get dinner cookin”

“What’s on the menu, Chefy?”

“Call me that again, and you’ll get nothing” He growled

“Jeez. Touchy” She pouted, crossing her arms over her chest. “Maybe you get no cute nicknames now”

“Oi. Don’t act like a child here. I didn’t put a ban on all of them. Just the overly syrupy ones. Don’t mind so much the others ones” He added quietly.

She glanced over and he caught the unimpressed ‘really?’ face she was making.

“You’re a minefield, you know that?” She muttered distantly, looking out the window.

He swallowed, hesitant to discover if she was still being playful of he’d already managed to piss her off only a few minutes after having her in his life again. They’d already had plenty of play fights and it seemed arguing was something that naturally was bound to happen in their relationship. Not necessarily bad, just something that they did. They were both strong, opinionated people. But it made him question whether or not it was going to work in the long run. He would stick through anything, find the solutions to the problems that kept her by his side.

Doubt reared its ugly head. For as wonderful and passionate as their first encounter was, they knew very little of each other at the same time. They were still learning. What if now that she spent time with him on a regular basis they found they couldn’t stand each other. That she couldn’t stand him? He didn’t think he could deal with another heartbreak so soon after what happened with Drusilla.

“What’s the worst one you’ve been called?” She asked breaking the silence, still not looking at him.

A Beat.

“Blondie Bear” He scowled “Or Platinum Baby. Take your bloody pick”

She turned towards him and giggled. Outright giggled that turned into a cute little laugh. He felt his heart melt at that, both at how cute she really was and at the relief that filled him.

“Eww. Those are both pretty awful. What was she? 15?”

“Fuckin’ hell woman. You think I’d do that? I know I don’t usually abide by the soddin rules but I wouldn’t take advantage of a child like that”

“Oh please” She rolled her eyes “Mr. Dramatic. I’m only teasing” Another beat “16?”

“Cheeky little” He growled, jaw ticking “She was a perfectly **_normal_** adult age. Just acted like a bloody child” He grumbled

“What was that? I didn’t hear you under all that brooding”

“Your insufferable. You know that Summers?” He jabbed playfully

“You love it”

A beat

“Yeah…” He sighed, running fingertips through his spiked up hair. “I really do. God help me, but I do”

She snuggled up closer, taking a deep breath of him. “Will I have time to explore the place?” She asked after a few moments of quiet.

“Course, whenever you like. If you’re staying a few days they’ll be plenty of time”

“Hmm your right. I’m going to want every moment I can with you tonight. It can wait”

“You’ll get no complaints from me luv. Now, want some of that music education?”

“Oh sure. Put on whatever, I wanna hear it all”

“Sex Pistols it is then”

“Are they your favorite?”

“Don’t really play favorites. Like em a lot though. Same with the Ramones, The Clash, Buzzcocks, Subhumans”

“My punk rocker” she drawled affectionately. He smirked and cranked up the volume.

__

Outside of the traffic that clogged the highway around the airport, the rest of the trip was smooth sailing. Spike followed her directions to get to her apartment in the quickest way possible and found that even though they lived in the same city, their dwellings were rather far from each other. Which made sense, since he lived on the outskirts in the posh area and while she wasn’t in the ghetto, the neighborhood she lived in had him worried about her safety. When he brought it up, she just waved him off saying that she’d been living here for a while now and she could take care of herself.

And he knew it too, his girl was a wild little hellcat. But it still made his skin crawl thinking of possibilities. Once they made it there, she invited him in while she quickly scrounged up whenever she needed for the next few days. It was a small little flat, barely big enough for the girl, and she was only 5’4’’ so really what did that say? Having only two rooms, one large and open which contained her living room, kitchen and dining room in one (for which he had three separate ones), her bedroom and a loo.

He wasn’t sure what the hourly rate for a flight attendant was but he figured she probably made more than enough to upgrade to something bigger. When he asked about it, she waved him away dismissively and told him that this was plenty for her. The money she was saving by not paying for extra frilly things was helping her pay for her schooling. The thought of asking her to move in with him permanently bubbled up and took hold of his brain, wanting her to be with him as much as possible now that he had her. _Too soon mate. Again with this? Gonna either scare the girl off or piss her off. Neither one a particularly good outcome. Just wait you git._

She was quick. Much quicker than he expected and within a half an hour or so they were already on their way to his place. She hadn’t wanted to stay at her place long, which was fine by him. By the time they reached his mansion, they went through the entirety of the one and only album from the Pistols, _Nevermind the Bollocks, Here’s the Sex Pistols_ and part of _Rocket to Russia_ by the Ramones. They were starting to pull into his driveway when “Sheena is a Punk Rocker” had just finished up playing.

“Oh. Now I get what that smirk was for earlier” She grinned

“Bloody masterpiece that track”

“I was pretty partial to the first one. Very catchy”

“Yeah, they do alright”

As the pulled up to the circle driveway, he heard her gasp and he looked over at her out of the corner of his eye to see her mouth agape and eyes wide.

“You live here!?” her voice climbing into that pitch range that bordered into small dog territory. And however annoying the sound may be, which it did thoroughly, he found himself still smiling automatically when her face lit up as she stared at the great structure before her.

“No, pet. I live in the doghouse behind this place” He drawled sarcastically _Course I bloody live here._

She smacked him on the arm and he had to wonder if she had some kind of telepathy, or if she was just that bleedin good at reading him already.

“Don’t be an ass” She hissed playfully.

He killed the engine and without delay she unbuckled her seatbelt and was out of the car before the damned thing was even off. She scanned it and took it in with awe like it was it was the soddin Statue of Liberty or the ruddy Grand Canyon.

“Wait?” She asked swinging around to face him “You have a dog?”

He scoffed “No. Can’t say that I’m much of an animal person”

“Oh…that’s too bad” She murmured sadly, a distinct note of disappointment in her voice as she took her gaze away from him and stared at the house instead. Even so, he could tell that she was pouting, regardless of him being able to actually see her. It was like she put out electrical waves or some kind of sign that she was doing it. For evil purposes of course. _Fuck. Guess Fido is in the foreseeable future. Won’t be able to say no to a face like that if she asks._

“I’ll pop the boot. Get your things out so we can get out of this bleedin heat”

“Yeah, sounds good. It’s beautiful by the way” She spoke, turning to face him again, walking wards him as he strolled around the back and unlocked it with a key, not a remote. “The architecture. It’s so different from the rest of the city. It reminds more of the mansions and castles you see in Europe rather than the Spanish Colonial kind of deal going on here”

He looked up at it, covering sensitive sapphire eyes against the violating sun rays. “’S cause it is. Bought this one in particular for that reason. Guess it reminds me of home” He said in a faraway voice. He didn’t _want_ to miss home, because London was full of far too many bad memories for him to want to want it back. But…he was born and raised there, experienced all his firsts. He grew up being able to travel to a completely different country within a few hours. Germany, Italy, hell even soddin France if he wanted to and he was used to that brilliant scenery and people and the houses that stood the test of time despite being nearly destroyed just over half a century ago.

They were quiet for a moment, save for the chorus of summer bugs, the area around them was still and calm, not at all like the busy sounds of the city. He preferred it this way, never much of a city person to begin with. Too much going on, too many people.

“I think I like the Ramones more than the Pistols” She said breaking the silence, grabbing hold of a duffel bag and slinging it over her shoulder.

“Like them more? So you didn’t hate the Pistol’s then?” He badgered, taking her lead and grabbing a second bag from the boot. _Bollocks, she grabbed the heavier one._

“No, no I actually like them. They’re just a little…”

“A little…?” He pestered her with a smirk. She swatted at his hands as he made to reach for the bag she was already holding, tugging it around with ease.

_God the strength of her_ He thought to himself, awestruck.

“A little rough? I guess that’s what it is. Compared to the Ramones anyways, who were a little more…poppy? I guess”

He chuckled

“Yeah guess you could say that. Their raw. No holds bars. Not used to em and they can be buggering to the ears. ‘S why I played em first. That way, all the other’s didn’t seem too bad. Hate to put good ole Johnny Rotten on the chopping block, but sacrifices have to be made sometimes”

She tapped her forehead “Smart. Well I think it worked. I have officially been introduced to the world of punk music and I didn’t hate it”

“Good to know. Got so many others to introduce you to, though I suppose that comes with time. Love to see what you think of Subhumans. Right thrashin’ they are. Now, get your pert little arse inside ‘fore I burn to a crisp before we even have a chance to get to the fun bits”

“You gotta open the door first you doof”

“ ‘M just gonna ignore that comment and pretend that you didn’t insult me in my own home”

“Jokes on you! We’re not even in your home! Maybe if you moved your pasty butt we’d have been halfway to happy town by now”

“You know, I don’t believe you’ve had the pleasure of seeing my arse yet” He purred salaciously. He shoved the housekey in the door, turning his head over his shoulder to grin dirtily as he did

“I swear Spike, if I didn’t love that mouth of yours so much….If you don’t shut up, I’m going to—” But she cut herself off after that as they finally walked into the foyer of the house. He watched her take in the sights, like she was bloody tot on Christmas morning.

It was mostly empty space, great rooms with high ceilings and dark hardwood floors causing everything to echo as they set down the luggage. It made everything seem lonelier than it appeared. He hadn’t had the time yet to determine a color scheme, so the walls remained glaringly white. To the immediate right was the doorway to another room, also empty, save for the one moving box pushed up against the far wall. Just inside of the front door was a spiral staircase that went up to the second and third floor of the house and in the center of the ceiling hung a great crystal chandelier. To the left was another archway that lead into a hallway taking them to the large open family room/dining room/kitchen.

“Oh my god” She gasped in wonder, setting her things down and turning in full circles to look at everything. It reminded him of those bloody Disney princesses. _Only my girl is a hundred times more beautiful_.

“Spike. God! This is…its so beautiful. I can’t believe you live here. That this is all yours”

“Needs loads of fixin up. Some paint. Organizing”

“It’s perfect” She spoke dreamily “I can’t wait to get the full tour. But I want to get all set up and—” And like her stomach was reading her mind he heard the sound of her tummy roaring at her. “Guess I’m kinda hungry too” She grinned sheepishly

“Didn’t eat while you were waitin’? All that delicious airport food” He teased

She shook her head. “Mmm mmm, too nervous. Too excited. Couldn’t eat”

“Excited is good. I like excited. No need to be nervous sweetling. ‘S just you and me, and we already know were bloody brilliant together. What’s there to be nervous about?” He paused sensing her trepidation when he looked into those eyes of hers. “Know I won’t hurt you yeah”

“Of course! Oh god Spike. It’s nothing like that. It’s just…”

He could see the insecurity creeping up on her, the way her mouth turned down in a little twitching frown and her fingers couldn’t seem to stop twitching. It was something he didn’t see a lot from her. She’d always been so confident in herself since the day he met her. It was one of the reasons he found himself falling for her so fast. Faster than he ever thought possible. But he had never seen her shaken. Not like this. Not even after she told him of how awful the farmers boy had been to her and how he’d made her feel shameful about the things that pleasured her.

“No not that” She hissed to herself, frustrated. With him, or herself he wasn’t sure. She gaped, opening and closing that perfect little mouth in unsaid words, like she couldn’t find the right ones, all the while her eyes solely focused on his. He saw the fire there. How it danced within those beautiful gemstone irises, more radiant then the most natural of stones.

“I don’t want to do wrong by you. Not after the things you’ve told me about Drusilla and the others. I know it’s okay for me to be who I am, to want the things I want and enjoy them. You taught me that and that isn’t going to go away”

He made to speak, to cut her off, tell her that what they had, what they already shared was nothing like the past, that it was in a league of its own, but she shut him down. She held up a had to silence him and the words just died in his throat.

“Lemme finish”

He didn’t argue back.

“This” She gestured between the two of them. “This is real. What I was doing with the others was just practice. Learning and honing. It was for me yeah, I needed it to grow as a person and work past some of my own issues, but I needed it for you too. I wanted to be able to be there for you for whenever the time came that I heard from you again. I put the decision to get into contact with me on you because I knew that you were the one in the dark place. I know that you needed to be the one to ask of me when **_you_** were ready for it. So I waited. I learned and I honed and I waited some more because I wanted this” She gestured between them again “I wanted this to be more than just sex. Because I felt it. And I know you did too. I felt what happened on the plane between us. It wasn’t pity sex or because you were drunk. You wanted this and so did I. You needed this, and so did I. I want this, us, to be healing”

He was gobsmacked. Even if he wanted to try and retort, try and come up with responses right now, he was fairly certain they wouldn’t come. So he just stared at her, trying to absorbed what was happening. Healing, she’d said. A process to get well, to mend. She’d learned for him, studied and trained so that come the day he’d gained his bollocks back she would be ready to use what she knew, what she’d practiced to promote healing not just in him, but for both of them, as a couple.

She wanted to give something to him because he needed it, because **_they_** needed it. Needed to replace the memories that had long since damaged heads and hearts. Memories and experiences that tainted parts of the brain, deadened them so that nothing new would grow. Remove the cancers that were preventing fresh roots from settling down. Preventing the creation of new and better memories of each other.

“I want you” her voice heady and drunk with the sound of her lust “I want you more than I’ve ever wanted someone before”

“Buffy” He rasped, his throat feeling like it was coated in honey; thick and syrupy and hard to swallow.

“And I want to do these things for you. I want to give you what makes you feel good. And Spike…I’m scared. I’m so scared I’m going to mess it up. I’m scared I’m going to go too far and I’ll make you relive some of those awful memories. I’m so afraid that I’ll trigger something. What if I—”

“Buffy. Luv. No” He stated firmly

“—What if I hurt you?”

He reached for her, wrapped steel like muscles around her waist, settled one palm at the small of her back while the other caressed over her spine, over scapula, over the base of her neck until fingers threaded through golden silk. He pulled her in, dragged her close. Inhaled deep the scent of mint and orange and sweat and Buffy, felt the jackrabbit beat of her heart against his chest. _Tiny thing. Little slip of a girl but stronger than me. All tucked up against me and she looks so small, but she’s not. Not in the slightest. Still want to protect her though, from all the bad things in this world. From memories past and dark dreams. But she can protect me too. Like equals_

“Not gonna hurt me” He soothed

“You don’t know that”

“I do” he murmured, talking into her hair, brushing her locks with his fingertips. You’re not like them. Not like **_her_**. Selfish, the lot of them. Nothing was for free there. There was always a price for pleasure. But not here. Not with you. Safe as houses in your arms luv. Your selfless beautiful girl and I know you. I’ve seen where you live. I’ve seen where you came from. No, sweetheart. You won’t hurt me, you’ll heal me”

Something of a sob ripped through her throat and she pulled him desperately to her, cupped his jaw and brought him down to her for a searing kiss. She mauled his lips, tongue darting out to taste him, to part his seam. When he opened for her, giving into her, she dragged her tongue along his maddeningly, with such passion that it nearly knocked him down.

_Want more. Want it all. Snogging and shagging is all good, want that too, but I want everything with her. This is more than just caring. This is more than just a bonded pair, more than friends. It’s all those things, but its more. I…I love her. That’s what this is. Didn’t think I could fall for another, but this woman, she slipped right in. Like she had a key._

He tasted salt before he felt the puff of her breath and shuddering force of her sobs. Cool saline fell against his swollen lips like little raindrops.

“Shh. Shh. Don’t cry luv. Please don’t cry” He soothed, playing with the fine downy hairs at the nape of her neck, pressing his forehead to hers.

“Good tears” She croaked, eyes bright and shining, reflective pools of precious jade. “Much with the good. The best even” She rambled between hiccupping breaths as the shaking of her torso slowed. “I can’t believe this is real. That you’re here in LA, that you’re here with me. That all of this was born from chance. It means so much to me. How lucky we are to have found someone who gets the other. Who understands where the pain and doubt comes from and are willing to be there for each other. That there’s someone out there perfect for me”

“ ‘M not perfect” His voice a harsh whisper, barely trusting his own voice. It was hard to swallow and his eyes were filling with his own tears. And for once he was not ashamed of spilling buckets of salt. “I can be a right bastard, a lazy sod, anger issues, separation anxiety and I have a bloody bad habit of leavin’ wet towels on the floor of the loo”

“Shudder gasp. That’s it. That’s the end. That’s my breaking point”

“Sarcastic chit” He growled playfully, leaning down and nipping at her earlobe

“You love it” She teased, tears finally stopping.

“Love you” He confessed softly, pressing a tiny kiss to the fleshy spot behind her ear, unable to stop the words from flowing. Not when the dam had already been broken, not when they were both in such an emotional place. It was now or never.

Her head snapped away from his and he reluctantly let go, already missing her warmth and the way she was curled into him. He knew this was sudden, maybe not for him because the thoughts had already been swirling around for days like a fog that wouldn’t lift, but maybe for her. Her eyes searched his intently. Storms meeting the forest.

“You—”

“—Love you. ‘S right. I know….I know its sudden. If it’s too much right now I understand” He watched her unchanging expression and for the first time he felt like he couldn’t discern her. Her face was blank, empty. Nothing for him to go on, not even the slightest micro expression from which he could pull some faintly hidden emotion. He panicked. His stomach clenched as the familiar feelings of anxiety twisted him up. _Did I take my medicine today?_ His gaze dropped to the rich wooden floor and he wrung his hands together, lithe fingers itching for his smoke, for a lighter, for something.

“Don’t have to say them back. I know how rushed and foolish it sounds. Know it’s probably too soon. But I can’t help the way I feel about you. You mean so much to me. Everythin’ you’ve done. Everythin’ you’ve said. Treating me like a human being. Looking past the riches and the trauma to the man beneath” He couldn’t keep looking at the floor like a coward. He looked up through his lashes and continued spilling everything he had. “He’s terrified Buffy. Offering up his heart again so freely, so wholly for another. After what happened before. After seeing what happens to others. But your different. You don’t want to hurt; you want to heal. And I want to do the same” Fingers reached out and touched lightly at the skin above her breast where heart was pounding away.

He laid an open palm against the warmth of that sun tanned skin. “Heal. Not hurt. Buffy, luv, your stronger than anyone I’ve ever met. You don’t need me to pick up your pieces, don’t need me to mollycoddle you. You can do that all on your own, but you let me in anyways. Let me in and now I never want to let you go” This time, he said sod it all and raised his head to capture her gaze completely, heart thumping wildly against his chest, threatening to spill all his heartsblood and stain the floor if she decide to use her words like knives and cut him deep.

Her expression was no longer passive, rather he found her perfect pink lips pulled up in a slight smile that had one tugging at his own lips. Her eyes were soft and misty, trained on his every move.

“You really mean all that” She whispered gently, still not touching him and somehow that was equally concerning as her previous lack of words.

“Every syllable” He trembled. He did mean every last word, every intention. Despite his monologue being one long unfiltered torrent of words, a sappy stream of conscious, there wasn’t a single word, a single phrase he would take back.

“I’m…I’m not sure what to say exactly. I—”

“—Told you before” He interjected quickly “Don’t have to say anythin’ Honestly…don’t know if I could take it if you said one thing only to take it back or not mean it when you said it. I just” He clutched as his heart with the hand that wasn’t on hers. “I needed to let you know. Had to tell you” He trailed off when she remained quiet.

There was an anxious silence between them for a moment. The air seemed to wrap around him like a blanket; covering his nose and mouth and suffocating him under its heavy weight. He heard the pounding of his blood and the shallow little breaths coming from them both, but little else. _Game over mate. Too soon. You’ve stunned her. Scared her and she doesn’t love you back. That’s why she’s not saying it. She doesn’t love you, you sad sorry sod. Maybe she would have, but you’ve gone and mucked it up before its even started. Seems you were meant to ruin everything you touch._

“Spike?”

“Yeah?” He wearily picked up his head fidgeting under her monotone gaze.

“I know that I like you a lot. I think…” She paused and licked her lips “I think that what I feel for you is love. I think it is but my heart and my brain have wires that are still crossed from the last time I told someone I loved them. He yanked them all out and I tried to put them back in all the right places but they’re all tangled and mixed up and I think I did it wrong. I want so badly to tell you right now that I love you too” Delicate fingers reached out for him, searching until they found his jaw again. She cupped him, the pad of her thumb tracing his cheekbone and he leaned into her touch. “I’m pretty sure that’s what this is. I’ve never felt like this before and so I want to say it, but I can’t. I can tell you how much I deeply care for you, that you mean so much to me”

Little tears welled in the corner of those verdant eyes, watery pools of green that shone like sun on a pond. He felt them too, tears of his own, stinging and threatening to fall. “Is that…is that enough right now? She whispered, her voice quivering.

“Of course it’s enough. Wasn’t even expecting what I got to be honest. Was hoping, of course”

“I promise—”

“—Don’t have to promise me anythin’. Ever. Even if you never say it, I’ll get on knowing how much you care, how much you want to. That’s more than enough for me”

And that was partly true. It was enough, for now at least. He meant it when he said he would in fact get on knowing how much she cared and how much she wanted to say those words back. What he didn’t tell her was that he’d still be desperately seeking those words, waiting every day until he heard them. He’d get on just fine, but part of him was always going to be disappointed until the words came.

She skated her fingertips around to the back of his neck, twirling the curls that broke free from the gel and rubbing the axis and atlas of his spinal cord, drawing a purring groan from his throat.

“Can I hear it again?”

His lips twitched in a smile

“I love you Buffy” He murmured sweetly

She dug her fingers in deeper and then pulled him to her, wrapping him in a great hug and tucking her head against the crook of his neck. His arms banded around her instinctually, seeking her out so that they melded together and he reveled in the satisfying warmth of holding her so close.

After moments of comfy silence and just taking a moment to hold on another, she spoke up.

“Why is it that we get into these deep conversations and declarations out of nowhere? I dunno about you but I wasn’t expecting to roll up here and start spilling my guts in the foyer of your mansion”

He chuckled “Dunno pet. Didn’t exactly plan it that way either. We are a pair, aren’t we?”

She laughed a long with him. “Yeah I guess we are. I’m also starving”

“I’ll hop to it then. Feelin’ rather peckish meself. My bedroom is up on the second floor, down the right hallway after you get off the staircase. It’s near the end but if you’ve made it to the room with the X taped on the door, you’ve gone too far.

“Jeez Spike, am I gonna need a map to navigate this place?”

He shrugged, detangling himself from her. “Maybe the first couple of days. If it makes you feel any better, I’m still learning it”

“It does” She smirked satisfyingly. “Now go” She swatted as his chest. “Food. Make it. I’m going to go navigate this labyrinth and get set up”

“Mmm. Can’t wait” He rumbled.

He had just finished grilling off the marinated chicken thighs when he heard the clomping of her feet down the winding staircase. It wasn’t the first time either. He could hear her moving around upstairs, footfalls heavy and he no idea how a girl so small could manage to make so much noise. She was bloody wearing sandals for Christsake!

She gasped in awe as she entered the kitchen, eyes wide as she looked around.

“Your kitchen is bigger than my entire apartment. Actually, I’m pretty sure every one of your rooms is bigger than my apartment. But hoo boy, this and your bedroom take the cake” She twirled around in a little circle. “This is beautiful”

The kitchen was large and open, and if it had been transposed from a local professional restaurant and put into his home, she wouldn’t be surprised. The equipment was stainless steel with all of it being in the center of the room built into a central island. There were several ovens close to the ground built into a gas range and indoor grill. On the ceiling above was a professional hood system. Around the edges on three of the four walls were white cabinets and other storage accessories along with a dishwasher. Spike stood in front of her, leaning over a prep table that was also a part of the wrap around bar with his back to the rest of the room. She watched him place the chicken from the grill onto a sheet pan which he popped in one of the ovens when Buffy took a seat at one of the stools.

The room was done in black and white, simple, like the rest of the house, and accented only by the stainless steel.

“One of the reasons I chose this place” He spoke

“Is that? Are you grilling indoors?”

“Yeah. Got the hoods, don’t gotta worry about smoke”

“That’s amazing! I love grilled food. It’s all charred and yummy”

“That it is. Should be done in ten or so”

“What’s on the menu tonight?”

“Grilled honey ginger chicken thighs with sticky rice and sautéed stir fry veggies”

“That sounds amazing” She moaned. Even though the sound was not meant to be sexual, or at least he thought not, he could feel himself hardening. He hissed at the pleasure pain, watching her confused look but waving it off.

“’S kind of a staple. Tried and true recipe”

“Oh? So you make this for all the girls you entertain?”

“No luv. Just happens to be one my favorites. That’s all”

“Well, can’t wait then”

“Wine?” He offered, holding a bottle of red

“I thought you were supposed to drink white with chicken? Isn’t it like a rule or something?”

“White meat yeah, but since this is dark…” He made a show of uncorking it, but delicately poured it into two glasses. “Dark meat, dark wine. I’ve got a pinot noir here”

She crinkled her face. “I’m really not a red wine person”

“Jus’ try it. At least with the meal. And if you don’t like it still, I have other spirits that you’ll be more inclined to drink”

“Well why can’t I just have those now?”

“Trying new things is good for you. Don’t you think” He purred salaciously, tilting his head

“Uh…yeah...” She flushed “I…I guess” And then she sobered, launching into an attack

“Also! You can’t just do that every time you want your way. That….voice, the head tilt, and that tongue thing”

“So you saying it works” He smirked

“You know as soon as we finish eating, we get to go upstairs and I get to punish you right? Are you trying to add more onto that? Cause I can do that”

“Maybe I am” He growled darkly

“I thought you wanted to be on my good side. Claw your way out of the hole you dug yourself. Be my good boy?”

“What can I say baby? Feels good to be bad”

She crossed her arms over her chest and looked upon him with a disapproving scowl. But he could see. Even behind the front there was a wicked glint in her eyes. She was looking forward to this as much as he was. They stared at each other, her smoldering and him cool and collected until the timer went off. He smirked and turned his back to fetch the chicken, setting it aside as he busied himself with plating up the rice, then the veggies and finally turning back around to add the main component. He finished it with a quick swirl of a dark colored sauce and a sprinkling of scallions on stark white plate and set the dish in front of her, along with the glass of pinot noir.

“Don’t have a proper table yet, ‘less you count that cardboard box over there.”

She shook her head, picking up her silverware.

“This is fine. I’m just thankful for this great looking food you made us. But I’m really wanting to hurry so we can get upstairs” She spoke demurely

A grinned tugged at his lips

“So eager” He purred

“I know you are too” She retorted, stabbing at some of the veggies. “You just Mr. Cool Guy and not letting it show”

“Your right. But I also just want to enjoy my first meal with my girlfriend”

She softened and smiled; that tiny sweet thing that made him want to pull her to him and never let her go.

“I guess Jack Daniels and tea doesn’t count as a meal does it?” She joked

“It would have been for me back then” He spoke somberly. Thinking back to those times made his head hurt. The bitterness, the anger, the unshakeable depression. How many days had he woken only to consume enough sauce to put him down until nightfall. How many nights did he spent weeping and wailing alone to the sound of records and his own rough voice while he drowned himself in another bottle.

“Lotsa meals were liquid back then. But I didn’t see you eatin’ anythin’ then so no, doesn’t count”

“Well then this is exciting. My first meal with my hot English boyfriend. Delicious by the way. Like almost enough that I want to stay down here and eat all of it instead of going upstairs. What did you marinate this in?”

“Well, being as the recipe is honey ginger chicken. I’d say there was a whole lot of BBQ and lavender” He mocked, popping a piece of the grilled poultry in his mouth and chewing slowly.

She scrunched her face in a way that was supposed to make her look angry, but really he just found it adorable. Like a soddin kitten, puffed up and trying to look tough, ready to throw a fit.

“You know, you don’t have to be a sarcastic jerk **_all_** the time”

“But some of the time is’alright?”

Another poignant glare and angry stab of food.

“Sorry luv, you signed up for this. I’m a bad rude man and you’ve known it. Now stop taking it out on my flatware you twit”

She huffed angrily at him, and muttered something unintelligible but remained quiet while she chewed her food slowly. Eventually, after a few bites her tension seemed to melt away. Her anger forgotten when she was eating. His cooking was just that good.

“This is really really good. How’d you get the rice to be not mushy but still stick together like this?”

“Have to wash it a few times to get rid of some of the starch. Otherwise it clumps up. Plus, I’ve got a steamer to make sure the cooking is even”

She ate a few more bites, bits of chicken alone, then bits of rice, then some of the veggies. He made a combination of red bell peppers, broccoli, carrots and some kind of cabbage. She didn’t normally eat vegetables as emphatically but they were crunchy and sweet and paired well with the chicken and rice.

“Will you teach me this too?”

“Cooking?” He asked. She nodded.

“Teach you anything you want precious. Got so much I can teach you” He rumbled suggestively

Her cheeks bloomed with a flush of pink and she dove in for another bite and snatched at her wine glass. Hesitantly she sniffed at it and looked at him with pleading eyes.

“Jus’ try it” He urged “Don’t like it, don’t drink it. Jus’ don’t spray it all over me”

She glanced at him hesitantly again but then swirled it around like a pro to release all the aroma and then smelled it again.

“What do you smell?”

“Vinegar mainly. It all kind of smells like that to me. Why? What does it smell like to you?”

“Ah Ah Ah. Not telling. You’ll be influenced. Tell me what you smell”

He watched as she took another inhale of the fermented liquid, closing her eyes this time, cutting off that extra sense.

“Umm, some kind of berry maybe? It’s something kind of sweet but tart. It kinda reminds me of a raspberry but it’s not that. It’s kinda like…sweet too, but that doesn’t sound right does it? It’s almost cookie kind of sweet”

“You’re not wrong. You’ve got a decent nose for this Buffy” He praised

“Really?” She looked at him and then the glass apprehensively before bringing it to her lips. Her head tilted back slightly and her eyes fluttered shut again as it reached her lips. He was pleasantly surprised when she slurped the wine in professional manner, drawing in air bubbles in order to really catch the flavor. Her sip was tiny but she swallowed delicately, throat bobbing and he felt himself begin to swell, noting how similar it looked to something else he’d rather have her be doing. Made him remember their time on the plane when she was happily slurping between his knees with his prick shoved down her throat. The noises and sounds she made. How turned on she was.

“It’s good” She admitted “It’s definitely super alcohol-y. Very dry. But it tastes like it smells. Berry like and kind of sweet”

He picked up the bottle, holding it a bit away from him and felt the smile at his lips as he started reading. “Vin de Pays, France. Fantastic value in a complex Pinot Noir, from a winery with longstanding ties to Burgundy. An alluring bouquet of cherry and berry fruit is framed by subtle vanilla and spice notes. Enjoy with herb roasted or grilled chicken”

He met her gaze as those dazzling gems sparkled in wonderment

“I got it right!”

“Mmm hmm. Just trust yourself luv. You’ve got great instincts. Got great tastes. You fell for me didn’t you?”

“You never cease to amaze me how amazing a person you are. You may be sarcastic and a jerk and sometimes just kind of mean but you’re so sweet, and encouraging, Your like…a chocolate covered marshmallow. Tough shell to crack on the outside, super gooey on the inside”

“And bloody delicious to eat” He purred devilishly, unoccupied fingers moving provocatively down his chest, his core, his hips and stopping at the top of his skintight jeans. He was torturing himself doing this, swelling and deflating, pain and pleasure.

“Let’s finish eating” Her voice a harsh whisper. He could hear the desperation in her voice. It left him breathless, wanting, impatient. He’d been the one to tell her to slow down, to enjoy everything. Now it was he who managed to scarf down his food while still managing to look badass and play the gentlemen by taking their dirty dishes to the sink.

She met him there as he turned around after depositing them in the basin of the sink, looping her arms around his neck and stared deeply into his eyes with those deep dark pools of green; pupils blown with lust. Half lidded and with a sexy little smirk she reached for him as he bent to her their lips meeting in the middle in a passionate kiss. _Gods her lips are so soft_. Even with all the snogging they had already done, how swollen they had been, they were still silky smooth. Warm. Wanting.

She was insatiable, tugging at his spiked hair, pressing tightly up against him, precious little mounds molded flat against his chest, no ruddy brassiere in the way. She looked divine in the white eyelet dress, it flowed around her and brought out the innocence in her, that sweetness. It would be so easy to grab it by the cottony bodice and rend it from her eager body; leaving him all bare for him. He wondered if she was wearing knickers underneath and growled against her lips, sucking in her bottom lip. She only spurred him on when she harshly grabbed him near the nape of his neck and pulled hard, groaning deep in her throat. He reigned in those urges, near to the surface as they were, the demon inside trying to claw his way out. The ones that screamed at him to grab her by the shoulders and slam her against the countertop and take over.

Instead he let his wandering hands dip below her waist and let each hand cup her toned arse over the dress, fingers splayed out and kneading. She moaned into him, a loud needy sound that he felt vibrating through his entire body. He rose quickly against within his prison, pressed tight against his jeans, pressed tight between them. A symbol of his loyalty, of obedience. Fuck but did it hurt though.

There was no way to quell the monster now, not when he was smushed against her, felt her warmth, her pulse, her desire. He took all the pain in stride and rubbed against her tighter letting her feel the outlines of the cage as he grinded his hips to hers. He kissed her more fervently, kneaded her muscles. She was gasping into him, her own hands wandering now. Down the back of his neck, over shoulders, and torso and hips, noticeably fingering over his covered nipple piercings as she moved down his body, rubbing the cotton of his shirt into them in small, agonizing circles, had him panting and ready to fall to his knees and then her fingers were gone there and reappeared at his hips. She teased him there too, scratching at his hip bone and twirling his dermal piercings there above his shirt. But then she wasn’t teasing anymore, she was grabbing his arse like she owned it, and she really fuckin did, owned his whole bloody body, and flicked at his cage.

He nuzzled into her neck, licking a wet path from the hollow of her throat to her pulse. He left tiny open kisses that had her writhing and gasping against him while he himself panted and groaned as her lips ghost down the side of his own throat to the curve of his shoulder. He almost lost it when she fucked herself up against him while biting down on his neck. Nothing too hard, but enough that he released a long drawn out moan combined with a cry of sudden pain. Suddenly she was off him. Eyes wild, chest heaving, licking her lips she drew his gaze and he was helpless to it.

“Time to go upstairs” She commanded huskily. He followed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Songs used in this chapter: Vampire Girl - The Misfits, Sheena is a Punk Rocker - The Ramones, Cretin Hop - The Ramones (The first song on the record that Buffy refers to as being partial to)  
> Albums Mentioned: Nevermind the Bollocks, Here's the Sex Pistols - The Sex Pistols and Rocket to Russia - The Ramones
> 
> The wine that Spike chose is a real wine with that exact description.   
> https://www.totalwine.com/wine/red-wine/pinot-noir/dautrefois-pinot-noir/p/95164750-1?glia=true&s=401&pid=cpc:utm_source=Google:utm_campaign=Core+Catalog+-+Shopping%2BUS%2BDELA%2BENG%2BSPART:utm_term=&gclid=Cj0KCQjw59n8BRD2ARIsAAmgPmJB6GSJ1zyHp6cTTDP4EP5lvlDSHgf6s_CKbLn1e2A3LE2hbvXnXPUaAunsEALw_wcB&gclsrc=aw.ds
> 
> For anyone interested I've finally put together the spotify song list which can be found here
> 
> https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0lsTOpRK3wEyymeaRRPffj?si=3pEidiGdTuCFXfXYIX5y5w  
> Spotify playlist
> 
> Enjoy and see you for the final chapter next week!


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We finally get to kinky Domina!Buffy and Sub!Spike in the culmination of this fic. Buffy and her hot little self punishes Spike for the bad boy he is while enforcing the bonds of trust and healing the old wounds of the past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is it everyone! The close to this WIP. This was one of the first fics I've ever written that spanned multiple chapters (I usually feel much more comfortable writing one shots) and its got me motivated to keep doing it! Again I'd like to make a PSA about Dominance and Submission. Those who participate should always communicate their wants, desires, and boundaries. You always have a choice in the types of play you get involved in. Consent is key! 
> 
> I had a lot of fun writing this as BDSM is my bread and butter. Add a few heaping spoonfuls of sappy, sweetness and you've got a very happy writer!  
> Please enjoy!

His room, for all intents and purposes, looked exactly the same save for a few minor changes and additions. His bed, a massive California king, which had been previously covered in his own set of cream colored cotton sheets and accented with earth toned throw pillows had been switched out for luxurious looking black silk sheets. More notably it had been fitted with under the bed restraints in each of the corners.

A fresh wave of desire rolled through him with an intensity that made him nearly fall to his knees here and now had Buffy not been standing directly behind him. Her arms fitted through the space between his muscular arms and rib cage and wound themselves around his waist, settling low on his hips as she pressed herself into him from behind.

She hummed in delight as she went straight for his groin, palming over the cage through his skin tight jeans in slow curved motions, panting heavily while grinding her hips against his arse. He whimpered shamelessly, thrusting into her hand and seeking friction; something, anything, but the cage made it difficult. So fucking difficult. He knew she was teasing him, getting him riled up and he wanted to curse and praise her at the same time. His blood was thrumming and his muscles were already shaking and he kept seeking out his pleasure that was so far away. Then it abruptly stopped. Not like he figured she’d get him off standing in the middle of his doorway, but he could hope yeah? She stood on her tiptoes and kissed the back of his neck, nibbled him and then she was gone.

She backed away and instead stalked around him slowly, his heart pounding in his throat, eyes locked to hers as she came into his frontal view. She continued towards his bed, hips swaying deliciously, her white sundress flowing like it was made from air and cast him an over the shoulder glance. She urged him forward with those hungry eyes and a tilt of her head. He went. Muscles moving without thought, neurons no longer under his own control. Nothing was in his control now. 

She stopped short of the bed and stood there, presence dominating the room with her authority. He fell still and waited silently on her every command as her gaze raked over him.

“Down” She commanded

There was nothing playful about her voice now and this was no longer a time to joke and throw jabs. The tone had changed the moment they walked through his bedroom doors. She had assumed her role and he his. Without acknowledging it, both partners fell into the scene. He knew now to do only as he was told without so much as a peep unless she willed it so.

He sank to his knees and like second nature fell into pose. Arms face up atop his thighs, palms open, head bowed forward to present the back of his neck; submissive, yielding. He went ridged, still as he could be.

“Good” She praised with a low hum of approval “Now wait. Don’t move a muscle. I’m going to go finish getting ready”

She didn’t wait for his response or approval, and he had none to give. Any and all control he had was given up the second they entered his room. This was her domain now. Her space. He would obey every single command she gave him, play only by her rules until he was released.

He didn’t know how long he waited there, but if he had to guess at least ten minutes had passed judging by the twitches in his curled up muscles. Not that it mattered. He had waited so much longer before in positions that made his muscles scream in agony, positions that had compromised his safety, had left him alone in the pitch black of a silent house. He would wait for however long she kept him there, until she told him he could move. He would prove how obedient he was, how much of a good boy that he could be. He wanted so desperately to feed into her, build up her confidence, hone her strength.

He was tipped off when she was done when he saw the light of the bathroom turn off, the room getting darker, and the door was shut softly. She padded out slowly, taking her time as she strutted across the hardwood floor until she was standing just in front of him. _What a pretty shade of pink_ He thought to himself as he stared at her painted toes.

“Eyes on me”

He lifted his gaze and met her eyes; heated, piercing, dark and rich, like forest moss on stone. She was wearing a strappy two piece number. The top was made of little strings of crimson sheer and lace that stretched across her suntanned skin and connected into a halter that fastened around her neck. A collar of blood. So tempting she was as it revealed so many slivers of skin but covered what he wanted to see the most. It fit her gloriously, the cups of the bra covering breasts that were small but firm looking. The bottoms were nothing more than a few pieces of string and a triangle of fabric that just barely covered her pretty slit, her smooth outer lips peeking out from both sides.

He wanted to voice his approval, praise her every perfection. He wanted to let her know that it fit her perfectly, that she truly looked a goddess in these gossamer togs. A Sidhe princess in the court of the Unseelie. He kept his mouth shut.

“You’ve been a bad boy” She spat “You disobeyed me. You came when I told you not to touch yourself. If it had been your first time doing this, I might have overlooked it. I might have given you a second chance. But you’re not green are you Spike?”

He remained silent, held his tongue. So many words floated around his head but as he watched her expectant gaze. He knew better. When he remained silent, her lips curved in a wicked little smile.

“Very good My Pet” She praised “You may speak now”

He shivered at her nickname. He knew not whether it was her intention to use one that he usually gave to her, only that it turned him on immensely. The ownership that she put behind it, **_My_** pet. It was intoxicating. And he was relieved that she’d taken into account that derogatory names were on his hard no list.

“I’m not green”

“That’s right. You’re not. You know this game. You’ve been playing longer than I have. Yet you’re the one who lost control. As sexy as I think it is that you came for me without even having to stroke the prick between your legs, you still disobeyed my orders” She cocked her head “What do you have to say for yourself”

He swallowed thickly. _Groveling time mate, done this before. Anything you say can and will be used against you. Don’t fuck up._

“ ‘Ve done you wrong. Undermined you. Played you for a fool. That someone as lovely and intelligent as you would not have found out that I lied” He confessed

“Yes. You did. Do you think I enjoy being lied to?”

“No, I don’t”

“No I don’t what?”

_Misstep. Out of rhythm. The steps are all wrong. Can’t have that. Gotta get it right._

“No I don’t, Mistress”

She sneered at him and he trembled under her intensity.

“Goddess” She corrected hastily

“But—”

“No” She glared at him furiously. “No arguing. You know better. I am not your Mistress, am I?”

“No”

“I’m more than that aren’t I?”

“Oh yes. So much more”

“You’re the only one that gets to call me Goddess. None of the others. I was their Mistress, but nothing more. You are worth more to me than them. Now. Do you think I enjoy being lied to, Pet?”

“No I don’t Goddess”

“Hmm that’s right. I don’t enjoy it. I don’t enjoy it at all. I’m frustrated Spike. I’m frustrated that you disobeyed me and came when I told you not to because I know you can do better than that. So…you punishment is twofold”

She stalked around him again and he watched the seductive movements of her exposed body. The smooth glide of her gait, the sway of her hips, the air of confidence she exuded as she walked around his submissive self in a circle, as if taking him in from all angles before making her way towards the bed. Her tiny body blocked the dresser in front of her, but his ears picked up the sound of the drawer sliding open and something solid swinging through the air. It came again; once, twice, three times before her she turned around, keeping it behind her back as she advanced his way.

But he didn’t need to see it to know what it was. He knew that sound, knew what she carried before she even reached him. A pretty toy made of plaited leather, one that sang through the air and bit down on waiting willing flesh. The masochistic part of him shivered in delight at the thought of being struck with it.

“The first part, your already wearing” She spoke, now displaying the toy in front of her, dragging it out from behind her back like it was some kind of secret. A solid black riding crop that she first dragged over her thighs and down to her knees before dragging it lightly against his cheek, down his neck, his torso until the flat tongue rested innocently against his denim covered groin and the cage beneath.

“Do you remember why you’re wearing it?” She posed thoughtfully

“Because I disobeyed you. Got off when you told me not to.”

“Hmm, yes” She agreed while fingering the long rod of the crop, brushing the pads of her fingers against the tip of it. “But that’s not all”

With a movement quicker than he was able to track she set the tongue over the cage and cracked it hard against the denim

**THWACK!**

There was little pain from the blow itself, the thick fabric of his jeans absorbing most of it, but the cage rattled a bit and the sound of the toy moving through the air and the anticipation of the blow had a renewed surge of blood attempting to inflate his near strangled prick. He let out a tiny groan of pain and her face cracked for a moment, revealing confusion and concern before the mask came back up.

“No, My Pet. There’s more to it than that. Do you want to hear the rest?”

“Yes Goddess”

“I asked you to control yourself not because I didn’t want you to cum. I’m not against you cumming, My Pet. I **_want_** you to come. You’re so pretty when you do” her voice was wistful for a moment. “So you see, that’s not the problem” She drew the crop back over his body again until the tongue rested on his lips and he whimpered. “The problem is that you took away **_my_** control. You gave me that power and then took it right back, like it didn’t matter”

**THWACK! THWACK!**

Two quick flicks landed on each of his palms. He sucked in a breath as the familiar stinging feeling came back to him, fingers curling slightly in reaction, but he quickly reset back into position.

She hummed in approval.

“I wanted complete control of your orgasm, and you took that away from me Spike. So now” She stalked around him again. “You wear the cage. So that every urge you have is good and squashed up against those steel bars” She cracked a wicked smile “And it’s so small for you, isn’t it? Uncomfortable?”

She was in front of him again, stood tall and resilient and she rested her hands on her slim hips.

“Speak, Pet” He demanded in his silence

“It’s served its purpose” He admitted

The fire in her eyes swelled

**THWACK!**

The tongue came down against his left forearm, the leather biting at the soft flesh of his dominant arm, already red beneath her strength.

“Was it uncomfortable?” She demanded

“Mmm. Yes goddess” He hissed

“Couldn’t get hard, could you? Not really. Not with that monster between your legs. I bet you couldn’t even get to half-mast” She sneered

He shook his head from side to side. She was right of course. It hurt if the damned thing got even a quarter of the way filled with blood.

“So safe to say—"She drawled, turning away from him, giving him a full view of her sheer covered arse, or should he say barely covered. He salivated. He wanted to grab hold of it, of her, kiss it, bite her, lick her top to bottom. He wondered how naughty his girl was, if she’d let him pleasure her there too. Gods how he wanted to get his hands on her right now, grab at her until she was astride him, pull her down over and over and over as she rode him violently. He flinched in pain again as he let his thoughts wander “—That you haven’t cum while you’ve been locked away” She looked at him over her shoulder, golden tresses tumbling like a flowing waterfall of silk. They caught the light and made her shimmer. She looked an angel incarnate, a sinful little angel with her sultry tone, bedroom eyes and provocative lingerie.

“No” He spoke, trying to hold his voice together, tried to stop the quiver that made him sound like a desperate boy. Tried to, but was failing fast. The anticipation was making his nerves go haywire, made him shaky. Made him reckless. Her eyes narrowed and she turned on a dime, storming up to him, hips swaying provocatively, power and rage in her stride. She raised the crop and he truly whimpered as the **THWACK! THWACK! THWACK!** of three harsh blows came down on the sensitive skin of his forearm, making a line up his arm. The first at the crook of his elbow, the second at his wrist and the third overlapping the red mark already there.

“What was that my Pet?” She demanded coolly. Her grip on tightening to the handle of the crop, muscles in her arms already twitching.

“No goddess. No. I haven’t cum” He trembled in prospect of more strikes. Not because he wanted to be bad, but because it had been so long since he felt the rush of endorphins that came with the pain. The demon that lurked beneath the surface, growing stronger in reaction to her punishment. That masochistic need within him for the pain, the domination, the submission.

“Good. Then this will make the rest of your punishment all the better” She purred, her stoic face morphing into a Cheshire grin. She dropped the crop to her side and strode towards him.

_Another lashing then_

She stopped in front of him, only a few inches away. So close that he could feel her warmth and got wafts of her perfume; something musky but subtle that mixed with the tang of her sweat. She knelt before him, locking eyes with him and reached forward. He braced for something; a touch, a slap, for her to grab at his crotch, but she went straight for his front pockets and withdrew his lighter. Then she was up and gone, moving out of his field of vision.

_What’s she doing then? Getting something else? Something stronger? What’s she need the lighter for then?_

Could she tell that he enjoyed the crop too much for it to be considered punishment? It already seemed as though she knew how to press his buttons when it came to playing a scene. Using a neutral name to address him as she knew he did not response well to derogatory treatment. Using pain as both a motivator and as a punishment. She was both proactive in her research and reactive in her delivery, proving quickly that she was firm and concise in her orders. This was a woman who was devoted to her craft, who took pride in pleasing those she dominated and enjoyed the reactions of her subs. She was filled to the brim with confidence.

He could see in the way she held herself how she slipped into her other persona as easily as a second skin; as though she was born this way. And he’d been the one to bring that out in her. It was such an incredible turn on, knowing that he did that. It filled his with such pride and overwhelming lust. He heard the click of her lighter nearly a dozen times, all experience telling him that she was lightning candles all around the room. For mood or pleasure he didn’t know yet, but he appreciate their true light.

_Buffy would look beautiful in candlelight, warm glow bathing her skin in golden light. Golden light, golden girl._

He heard the clink of it being set down and then she was moving towards him. She tapped him on the neck with the leather tongue and like a trained animal his head rose to watch her walk away again, this time towards the bedroom door to switch off the rest of the lights. The room sank into darkness, lit now by the natural light of the candles.

Again she came towards him, taking her place on the bed and folding her long slender legs underneath her with an almost inhuman grace.

“Come here” She directed, crooking her finger.

He started to rise

“Tsk Tsk Tsk” She clicked her tongue “I didn’t say you could stand”

He stilled

_Oh wicked girl. Oh ridged temptress. You turn my own words to you against me? Do this on purpose did you?_

He eagerly complied, lowering himself to hands and knees. He kept his head down as he started towards her and his ears pricked at the sound of her low moan. _Oh yes. Your enjoying this aren’t you?_

“You look so good down there, Pet. It becomes you, and pleases me very much” She praised

“Thank you, goddess”

He kept crawling towards her, pale limbs unfurling and returning to his center of mass as he crossed the short distance to her. Her breath seemed to hitch as every sinewy movement and while she was the one with all the power here, he couldn’t help but feel a little of that power knowing he still had that kind of effect on her. When he arrived at her feet he folded his knees back under him and resumed his submissive pose, presenting himself to her.

“Hmm. That would have been much better if you had less clothes on. But I suppose that’s my fault, not yours. Not that you look bad my Pet. I am rather fond of your punk aesthetic”

She loomed over him, looking at him expectantly

“Thank you goddess”

Her eyes narrowed and with a quick flick the crop came down twice in rapid succession

**THWACK! THWACK!**

One strike each on his open palms again. The sting settled in as quickly as the redness spread.

“Thank you for the compliment goddess” He amended. Her lips curled in a sultry smile.

“As good as you look with clothes on, I think it’s time they came off. Don’t you?”

“Whatever you want Goddess. My flesh is yours”

She hummed in satisfaction. “It is, isn’t it? From the roots of those pretty white locks to those well-manicured toes. All mine”

With his head bowed, he continued to wait patiently, only assuming he was looking him over once more. He was thrilled that he pleased her eye this much even without his clothes off.

“Now strip. Shirt first. Time to unwrap my present” She cooed delightfully. With a fluid grace he grabbed the tight muscle tee and slowly pulled it up, anticipating that she would want a slow reveal. Inch by inch he pulled the offending garment up and over his head, a surge of masculine pride running through him at her staggered breathing as he felt his muscles contract and ripple with the mundane movement. He set the shirt aside when he was finished and returned to pose.

“Oh Spike” Breathless and panting, her masked slipped at the reveal of his naked torso. He tilted his head up to catch a glimpse of her, knowing he’d likely be punished for breaking position but caring only slightly. Her gaze raked over him, devoured flesh and warmed him all over under her appreciative eye. “Fuck your beautiful” She cursed, biting her lip, “I knew you were built, not like your shirts hide much, but—” She trailed off “Fuck” She swore again “I think your prettier than me. All that perfectly pale skin stretched over tight muscle. Those arms, those pecs, and god, what is that? An eight pack? Is that even possible?” She groaned. “Your gorgeous and deadly. Silver and moonlight. My pretty boy” She praised, dragging the crop over newly exposed skin. “My darling Pet”

He wasn’t able to stop the growl in his throat in reaction to her words. The possession that curled around them like smoke. And then it was all back to business, her moment of reverie was over, for the moment.

“Rise” She instructed and he obeyed, gracefully rolling to his feet. “Jeans now”

He unbuckled his belt, the clacking of metal resonating in the quiet room as he quickly rid himself of it and undid the button to his trousers. Despite her stone faced appearance he knew that the woman in front of him would have the sexiest awed look on her face if the situation was different. He remembered so clearly her strong reaction to him and his bits below the belt the first time and could hardly wait to see it again after that.

To find a women that felt so strongly for him, who wasn’t after his money, who was a hellcat between the sheets; giving it as good as she got, was a soddin miracle. Her fetish for his cock and bollocks only sweetened the pot. He drew out pulling down his zipper, letting each tick of its metal teeth drive her barmier as he revealed more and more skin. Then he started easing out of his jeans, being careful around the cage and thrusting his hips out in invitation as he lowered them down his muscular thighs and legs, tossing them aside with a graceful flick of his ankle. And for the first time ever, he proudly stood naked before her.

Gooseflesh erupted all over his skin in a combination of the chilly temperature and pure desire. The look she gave him would in turn, stay with him forever. The hunger in her eyes reminded him of a great cat, deadly and beautiful and looking at him like he was her next meal. She licked her lips as greedy eyes took him in from head to toe, emitting a soft moan of appreciation when it settled over his imprisoned prick.

“God” She finally managed to choke out, like he had stolen the very breath from her. It was intoxicating, the power he felt in that moment. The way she was looking at him right now made all the pain and heartache from the past seem insignificant. If he could manage to replicate that look, the way she was devouring him with her eyes for the rest of his life, he would die a happy man.

“Your….ethereal. I retract my previous statement. Beautiful doesn’t describe you, not in the least. A work of art, like one of those statue. Same marble complexion, same otherworldly muscle” She snorted “Way better cock. Even stuffed away in that little cage” She padded towards him, stopping just short of him and trailing the tongue of the crop over the hills and valleys of his milky skin.

“I’m yours to enjoy” He offered submissively, not meeting her eyes.

“Oh I will” She smiled deviously “Bed. Now”

Within moments she secured both his ankles and wrists into the nylon cuff restraints, his body starfished out on his own bed. Christ how he missed this. Giving up any and all control to someone, especially someone as strong and fierce as Buffy. He attempted to twist and move against his bonds, tugging against them in sharp movements to test whether they would snap in the heat of the moment, pulling against them using every bit of arm and leg strength until he was nearly red in the face. Oh yes. They would hold.

“How do they feel? Too tight?” He voice came as a concerned lover, not his domina and his heart fluttered at her tenderness at the break between lovers and play.

“Fine luv. Can be a bit tighter. Like a bit of a rub if I’m bein’ honest”

She nodded and adjusted them, tightening them up. Then she stepped back to admire him and her handiwork before slipping back into her role. She kneeled between his outstretched legs, hair draped over her shoulder, crop held tightly in a delicate fist with the tongue resting against her lovely thigh, surveying her quarry, eyeing her ivory prize.

“Now then” She purred and the bed shifted as she stretched out over him to grasp something on the bedside table and he turned his head to watch her. “Tsk. Tsk” She hissed

**THWACK!**

A single powerful hit found its mark on the inside of his thigh, dangerously close to his heavy sack.

“Hggn” He groaned at the sudden sting, sucking in a shaky breath

“Eyes forward. That’s the second time I’ve had to tell you and I don’t like repeating myself. Do it again and I’ll blind you. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes goddess”

“Yes goddess and…”

He fumbled for words

 **THWACK! THWACK!** One strike each to the bottom of his feet that had him pulling at the restraints.

“Sorry” He ground out

 **THWACK! THWCK!** Delicious bites at both his hardened nipples that made him press his hips against the bed and thrust out his chest in search for the source. The sharp flick of the crop jostling each piercing in that delicious way that she knew set him off. He wanted her fingers there, twirling and pinching and playing with him until he was writhing.

“Sorry Goddess!” He gasped out

“Hmm. I don’t think this is doing the trick” She pouted. She ran loving fingertips over its tip provocatively. “I think maybe I need something with more….bite” Her voice dropping low and sultry, emphasizing the ‘t’ and he knew without seeing her face the kind of wicked smile she was wearing. The women was going to kill him, tempting him with the sting of pain that he so desperately craved. The balance between wanting to obey and be good and to misbehave teetered dangerously.

He wondered, mind foggy with pleasurable delirium, what instrument she would rain blows down with. She seemed to take her time, due to indecisions or purposely building up anticipation, he didn’t know. He came up with dozens of scenarios right then, downright depraved and filthy, but that was to be expected. He was snapped from his thoughts when he heard the swish of thin leather sing through the air. He shivered in delight, knew that sound like it was his own voice. The feelings overwhelmed him and he was unable to control himself at the thought of her using his favorite implement on his pliant, willing flesh.

“Please” He begged pitifully. It had been so long since he’d felt its pleasant sting.

“Oh?” The tone of her voice raised in mock surprise. “You like this, Pet?” She trailed the tips of the tails delicately over the skin of his belly, tickling him and sending shivers down his spine. “Hmm. Maybe I shouldn’t then. After all….I’m supposed to be punishing you. You’ve been a naughty boy, haven’t you Spike? Naughty boys aren’t supposed to get what they want.

“No goddess”

She cupped his jaw and raised his head to meet her eyes, deep pools of blackened emerald, lips pulled back in a thin smile, eyebrows quirked expectantly.

“Say it” She commanded

“I’ve been a naughty boy”

“Oh yes you have. Naughty boys shouldn’t get presents should they? But…I know what my lover wants. What he needs. And I’m not cruel, am I Pet?”

Cruel? Oh god no. She was the opposite. She was giving and kind, she was self-less and sweet. Even as she towered above him now, even as he was bound and locked up tight he felt no enmity from her, only power and lust. It made him emotional, swept up in feelings that he wasn’t used to, had heat prickling behind his eyes.

“No goddess” His voice rough with unshed tears. If she noticed, she made no mention. She merely continued her exploration of his skin with the tips, finding her way over his belly, through his pubic hair and down to his thigh over sensitive ivory flesh. He braced himself for a hit over that tender skin.

 **CRACK!** The strings of leather came down much higher, over his left hip bone in a flash and he howled. In pain, in surprise, in thrilling pleasure that had him panting. She raised her arm again, eyes scanning; calculating his vulnerable flesh for her next point of attack.

**CRACK!**

“Ahh! AH!” He gasped out as the leather throngs bit against the inside of his thigh. His cock pulsed helplessly within its cage and the pleasure pain cause by those metal spikes had his hips raising off the bed.

“Do you want another?”

“Oh please. Oh yes. Please Goddess” He pleaded. And really? Why was it that easy for him to lose all coolness points in less than five bloody minutes? Big Bad all turned to mush within moments.

She teased him. Mercilessly. Trailing the leather bits, warming up now that they’d tasted his skin, all over his body. She’d lift her arm and he’d ready himself for a hit that she would never take. Instead she’d just play smack him, dip into secret places, had him shivering when it skimmed over the curve of his neck, over pebbled nipples, over the steel of his cage. His body sought it out, arching towards her, grunting and groaning when it would leave him. He was ready to give up.

 **CRACK!** The tails bit into the flesh of his unmarked thigh. “Hnn!” He groaned, sucking in breath through his teeth. His hips jerked off the bed, chasing the feeling or trying to get away, he wasn’t sure. She continued to rain blows upon marked and unmarked skin alike. The stinging pain was familiar but its delivery was new. As a third blow came down on his thigh, overlapping a previous one, it sent him into a fit of groans and unintelligible whimpers. The difference? It had to be Buffy. Had to be the way he imagined she was looking at him before and after every blow. He imagined the fierce glint in those jade colored eyes as she had her wicked way with him and the softer look of unspoken tenderness. The question of ‘is this okay? Can you handle another?’

When he didn’t tell her to stop, she’d bring down her hand again and give him what he wanted, what he craved, and when she was done there would be another soothing look in her eyes to determine if he was still okay, still handle another and it made his heart flutter. It compelled him towards another hit. It was an addiction. A fine line between stinging pain and intense pleasure. One more hit. One more rush of endorphins. Would the next be enough for him to cry out for her to stop or would the euphoric feelings continue the cycle?

 **CRACK!** Another bite came down against tender flesh, this one taking mark over sensitive nipples that were standing at attention and waiting for a soothing salve to ease the sting.

She sat back on her heels, panting heavily as her gaze raked over his skin, color bursting everywhere from the hail of stinging blows. Tangles of thin red lines like the bloody roots of some great tree.

“Aren’t you a vision” An appreciative murmur praised “You look good in red, My Pet”

“Thank you goddess”

“Mmm. My beautiful boy” She cooed. She set the nine tails aside and leaned back over him to trace angry track lines with soft fingertips. Soothed the pain with soft touches. His skin tingled. It was on fire and the coolness of her fingers was a welcome relief. Still high on adrenaline and endorphins he strained against the cuffs to chase those blissful feelings. He could tell without looking down at himself that she had broken skin in several spots. The nerves were buzzing intensely in those tender areas. And she was apprehensive around them at first, tentatively touching broken angry skin. He encouraged her with pleading whimpers as she explored.

She switched from cool fingertips to soothing butterfly kisses and through his lust addled brain he was touched at her soothing aftercare. He tried to move closer to her but was held back by right restraints.

“Now now” She chided. He caught the movement of her tongue as it flicked across her lips, dotted with crimson. He whimpered needily. “You’ve had your reprieve. I’ve given much more that I should have. Don’t you think Pet? Do you think I was generous?”

Despite her serious tone, he could hear the unspoken thoughts, the subtle undertones and subtext. They comforted him. ‘I’ll take care of you’ they said, ‘I’ll make you feel good.’ This was a part of the healing they had talked about earlier and he felt it so much in this moment. The care and attention she put into both the act itself and the aftercare was already mending snagged holes in his heart, replacing dark memories with brighter ones.

“Yes goddess”

“If you’re a good boy after your punishment, maybe I’ll give you some more. Would you like that My Pet?”

“Yes please, Goddess. Thank you”

Now she reached over to the bedside table again, this time pulling something from the drawer there before crawling back between his outstretched legs “Good. Now, I get to have my fun” Her sultry voice ending in a chuckle. “I’ve thought about this before. Doing this to you in my fantasies. I didn’t think that you’d be such a bad bad boy or that I’d get so lucky to get you in person so soon” Fingertips stroked along his cheek, fingering his jaw. She paused “Look at me” and eyed him expectantly

He settled his gaze on her, a warm feeling blooming through him, a smile tugging at his lips. _Gods she’s beautiful_.

“Do you think you’re lucky, Pet?”

He shook his head vigorously, eyes wide and trained to hers, words not able to make their way from his throat which suddenly felt like it was filled with water. Christ yes he was lucky. He’d be lucky if she told him she wanted to cover himself in gasoline and set himself on fire.

 **SMACK!** Her hand came down against the bloody tracks of his thighs and he convulsed against his restraints, going nowhere, letting loose a long low keen. The wetness of the blood smears making the slap of her palm more intense.

“Words Spike. Use your words. Your usually so full of them”

“Yes Goddess. Sorry Goddess. I’m very lucky”

“I think you are too. Would you like to hear what I have planned for you tonight?”

The tips of her fingers dipped into the smears of crimson along his thigh, pulling through rivulets and drawing absentminded patterns down his moon white skin, moving closer and closer to the metal prison enclosing his tortured cock and balls.

“Please yes, goddess”

“You took control over your orgasms away from me. Isn’t that right by bad, bad boy?” She posed

“Yes Goddess. ‘M a bad rude man”

“Yes you are. So bad. So now, I think it’s only fair that I take your control away”

She grabbed the previously set aside item from beside her and turned it on. A low hum emanated from it as he looked down the length of his naked body, past the bruises and welts left by the crop, past the blood and cuts made by the cat-o-nine tails, and he couldn’t stop the soft gasp when he saw the personal sized wand vibrator. A strangled moan escaped from his lips at the sight of it and at the impish smile that tugged at her lips.

“Ready baby?” She questioned as the vibrating head of the wand hovered only centimeters from his own.

_Like I have a bloody choice. Oh god. Oh Christ. Know where this is going don’t I? How wicked you are my Goddess. How merciless a punishment. Gonna be the death of me, several in fact._

“Yes Goddess” He nodded shakily, quivering in need and anticipation. “I’m ready”

“Good”

When she set the bulbous head of it to the steel and bits of his own head, he felt the vibrations throughout his entire body. He could feel the blood wanting to surge forward, felt himself grow a bit to seek the stimulation but was stopped once again by spikes and space. Still, he moaned at the feelings washing over him.

It should have been utterly embarrassing for him to admit, having only been locked up for just over two days that after only a few minutes of her pressing the wand to him he was already fit to burst. But he found it wasn’t embarrassing, just…freeing. He’d felt the shame before in what felt like a lifetime ago with his mad consort. She’d made him feel every bit the dog she so affectionately called him. Kept him locked away for weeks, sometimes months at a time. Not a bad thing of course, he liked the feeling of being owned, the deep ache of his swollen balls unable to shoot his load. But he despised the way she made him feel crushing insecurity; humiliating him for it. Squawked in taunting tones of his inability to reach orgasm or how he prematurely peaked to the rest of the soddin troupe. And since the group was filled to the brim with sadists, well, he didn’t exactly find any solidarity in them.

This was different though. Buffy was different. She was a domina, a right good one, but not a sadist. Clearly her intention was in fact to make him come, repeatedly, not withhold it from him. _Come to think of it, not sure which is worse._

She snuck glance at him all the while, quick little flicks of natural emerald, dark with her own lust, but for the most part her attention was solely on his cock and balls and her devilish treatment of the two. The vibrations stimulated a sort of unnatural masturbation. Mimicking strokes and tugs and pulls at his cock without the physical touch of hand or mouth. It was the intense speeds that did it, only possible via machine.

Within a few more moments he was right at the edge already. Partly because he had not been able to get himself off over the past few days and in part because it had been so long since a device like this had been used on him. Before, it’s effectiveness on bringing him off would have been diminished as his group of sadists loved to use the soddin thing on him. Make him numb to the pleasure so that it no longer felt good and punished him for it. But now? Oh god. Oh it had been so long, but his body had not forgotten how good it felt.

“Buffy” He croaked out, slender fingers curling and gripping at nothing.

“Close aren’t you?” She taunted knowingly “Does this feel good?”

“Yesss” He ground out, his entire body rolling and shifting in reaction. His range of movement was limited by the bonds and he loved it. Loved that he was tied down, strung up, made to be her slave, no choice in the matter and left to her devices. It was hard to tell whether the tingling in his sac was a signal of how close he was or the vibrations coming from the wand. Or both. Likely both. Too bad his brain had checked out the moment they walked through his bedroom door. He got his answer a few moments later, the headrush that accompanied with the full body high as his first orgasm in two days ripped through him like a wave.

“Buffy!” He called out, hips jerking upward but going nowhere as he rode it out. It was something of a short lived feeling, not being hard had a tendency to confuse the hell out of things. He kept riding the feeling despite its frustrating comedown. He normally had a tendency to pump out a torrent of cum when he came. Buffy had called that during their first encounter. / _“Want you to” She urged “I neeeed you to. Want to see you all swollen up. I bet you cum hard don’t you?”/_ and Christ what an ego boost that had been. Now though, his jets had been reduced to trickles. Not that he still didn’t make a mess as the stuff oozed between the bars of the cage, trickling onto his balls, down his pale open thighs and to the sheets below. He pulsed within his cage; poor prick confused as it was forced to keep pumping without the luxury of rising to full mast.

She only gave him a few seconds before she was back on him again, the vibrating head of the wand already pressed back to sensitive quivering flesh. She let it glide along the metal cage, rubbing it into the little gaps of already buzzing skin. She never kept it in one place too long, which was great because everything felt too intense. His only saving grace was that his foreskin protected his extremely sensitive head from the worst of her punishments. He could only cringe for the blokes who were cut.

“Pet. Answer a question for me”

 _Communicate? Now? In coherent sentences? Oh you mad bitch. ‘S that what you expect from me? D’u know you’ve scrambled my brain after that?_ He was barely able to even come up with his name

“Yes Goddess” He forced out

“Don’t you think you should thank me for letting you cum?”

“Ohh Goddess. Oh yes. Yes. Thank you”

“Hmm that’s a good boy” She purred, fixing the device on his constricted balls, a momentary reprieve before she once again placed it back against his tip.

The overwhelming feeling came right back, too intense sensations that had him pulling against his bonds with nowhere to go.

“That’s a boy” She cooed, circling around the bits of him pressed against the cage in tight little circles. She let no inch of him go untouched. He tensed up, the sensation that predicted his orgasm rising quickly.

“Gonna cum again, aren’t you? I can see it you know. I’m getting good at reading you now. The way your abs twitch, the way your balls draw up, the hitch of your breath. Oh yes, I know you my Pet. Come on then, give it up for me”

And he did, the sensation of bursting washing over him, frustrating as it was, causing more milky fluid to dribble through the open space of his cage. His head was going fuzzy. How many was this now?

A hard smack to his flank brought him back to reality.

“What do we say?”

“Thank you Goddess, sorry Goddess”

She pulled the wand through the wetness she found and used it to lubricate the bits of his prick that she could and it intensified every feeling. The vibrations ran through him like tremors now. He cried out, a desperate sound that pierced the silence, but she did not relent. She pulled the thing away for only a moment, watching his reactions with intense eyes, observing and learning the tells of his pain and pleasure. His entire shaft was buzzing with leftover phantom vibrations and pulsing uselessly in captivity. He didn’t know who the bigger masochist was here, him or his prick.

And then she was back a third time, over his head, around his sac, trailing up the short softened length of him. It took longer this time, minutes stretched on as he writhed in pleasurable agony. He twisted and tugged, muscle jerking and shaking as he was forced to withstand her torturous punishment. It was only going to get harder from here on out, not his prick of course, not with the cage, but the situation. The ability to cum would become more difficult, he knew this of course, had been subjected to this before.

“Good pet. Good boy” She soothed. Her delicate fingertips of her free hand reached out and trailed over his narrow waist and hipbones, briefly fiddling with the silver studs there, twirling them until he was gasoing. She alternated between rubbing small circles and raking her nails down the line of his body. Eventually though, she lay the palm of her hand flat against the dip between his hips and pressed him down against the bed with a moderate amount of force, enough to let him know she wasn’t playing.

“Stay” She commanded

“Oh god. Oh Christ” He moaned. There was nowhere to go now.

He felt it again, coming up rather fast now. Whether it was a slight change in her technique or the added pleasure from being sanctioned against his bed, he wasn’t sure. What he did know was that it was really starting to border on pain and pleasure now, feeling so good that it hurt. With a guttural cry, eyes clenched shut and blood pounding in his ears he came again, cock and muscles spasming. His breathing became labored and all rational thought left him.

“Thank you” He mewled. Fucking Christ. He didn’t know how much longer he could take this. It was starting to be too much now. Every little brush, every movement was a fresh spot of torture. He was sure that the amount he spent now was very little and therein lied another difference between Buffy and his formers. She didn’t hit him for it, didn’t laugh. In fact, she seemed to be more pleased with it, the sound of her moans becoming increasingly loud after every time he came.

The next time took much longer than the others. Gasping and panting like a fish out of water he desperately tried to writhe, anything to take away from the overwhelming feeling of that wand against him. But she held him down so well and with his weakened muscles, he couldn’t find the strength to fight her. She let out her own groans of approval, beckoning him, encouraging him.

He didn’t know how long he laid there, overly sensitized and blissed out. Pleasure that was barely more than pain at this point, but it must not have pleasured her that the time between his forced orgasms were increasing.

“This won’t do, will it my Pet?” She asked, taunting. She pulled the wand away from him and palmed the cage with her free hand, the soft tinkling of the lock brushing against the cage as loud as though it was the thrashing drums in a punk song. She repeated the movement several times and his eyes rolled back in pleasure. His throat was so dry from the involuntary sounds he’d been making. Stream of consciousness in the form of moans and mewls and whines.

“No Goddess” He croaked out, looking at her piteously

She frowned, but somehow maneuvered herself to reach for a glass of water that he hadn’t noticed before. When she raised it to his lips, he drank greedily, eyeing her over the rim of the glass as he did so, awed at the look of gentleness that he found there. He found himself getting close to tapping out, calling yellow and let her know it was getting too much for him. For as pleasurable as it was, and really it **_was_** for someone who craved pain as he did, even he had his limits.

“Better pet?”

“Yes Goddess, thank you”

“Good” She said with a smile, which rapidly turned into a frown. “Seems though that this taking a long while and I know you’ve got more in you pet” She glanced down at the wand and then met his gaze again, eyes devious in nature, then went back to the machine and flipped a switch. In an instant, the speed of the vibrations changed. They were faster now, more intense and all of a sudden the lull that his poor abused prick had settled into was broken. It seemed his mistress was fed up with her vassal lying down on the job and made good to get him back to work.

He wasn’t sure how much of this he could take. It did the trick though and she was triumphantly trilling as he shuddered and whined through another forced orgasm. It crashed into him this time, unexpected and intense, it sapped much of his strength. And still she didn’t relent. Everything felt number now and he couldn’t stop the mess of whimpers and harsh cries that tumbled from his lips as he instinctually tried to get away from the source. She continued to hold him down in place, sharp nails digging into his silver skin, half moons of blood welling up.

The pleasure pain was starting to become too much. A fine between the two, the balance was tipping. Wet and sticky, every nerve in his body on edge, muscles beginning to cramp from being locked up in stressed positions for so long. She made it better though, never ceasing to reach out and touch him, talking to him.

“Sweet boy. Pretty boy. My boy aren’t you? My sweet pale Pet. So beautiful when you come for me. I’m never going to get enough of it, enough of you. I want you to keep cumming for me pet. Keep cumming until you’ve got nothing left for me baby”

He knew he was being punished, but the juxtaposition of the intense pleasure pain and her gentle eyes and tender actions made it feel less of a punishment and more of a bonding experience. An odd one, no one would doubt that, but it was there’s. Since when had they been very traditional in the first place? He certainly never followed anything society had laid out for him. And Buffy was different from everyone he’d ever met.

It came up on him fast, that hollow pit in his stomach, the quickening of blood, that second before it happened where he was in euphoria from cumming but then he was **_howling_** , shrieking, otherworldly sounds ripped from his throat as the continual overstimulation became too much. Too much! His jets of cum reduced to little spurts and drops now, his body not given the refraction period to produce anything more.

“Nnggh! Christ!” He yelled, then fell into babbling whimpers and weakly pulling at his bonds. “Please” He panted “Please, please, please, please” Nearly sobbing, sounding utterly pathetic now but who gave a damn. This was him and Buffy and no one else. He didn’t need to be tough or strong or masculine here. He could lose every shred of dignity he had. Forsake all of his pride, whimper like a little bitch and cry when she struck in pain or pleasure and still it wouldn’t matter. There was no one to impress, no image to uphold. He could be every bit the person that he was without changing one single thing about himself, and that was **_okay_**. Because Buffy liked him exactly for who he was; kinks and fears, mental health, hobbies, taste in music and all. And that, being accepted for who and what he was, that was everything he ever wanted.

“Yellow” He whimpered, a shiver going through his body, panting heavily to catch his breath “Yellow”

She met his gaze, eyes meeting and she drew the device away from him, but didn’t turn it off. He saw the softness there, no bitterness, no sneering. There were no insults tossed around, no comments about his lack of stamina or constitution. There were no derogatory names or threats of more violence. There was only affection and kindness. Her lips curled into a smile, the settled into a smirk.

“One more for me then my Pet, you’ll give me one more. Can you do that? Can you do that for your Goddess?”

One more. He could get through one more. _Called yellow, not red._

“Anything for you, Goddess. My pleasure is yours”

“Good boy” She praised. “I’ll make this nice and easy for you, you’ve done so good for me”

She set it to him again, starting first at his constricted balls and working around him in tight circles. She worked over every bit of skin she could find and simultaneously picked up and tugged at his cage, holding it by the lock and rocking it back and forth at a fast tempo to mimic the motion that he’d make if he was gripping and tugging at himself. It rapidly spiraled him straight towards another peak, his final one, the added stimulation only increasing his pleasure. He was exhausted, overly sensitive and hurting. His muscles strained and he was far beyond sated, but he was happy.

“Bloody hell” He gasped out, fingers gripping sheets with white knuckles. Oh it was coming up fast, harder and faster than all the others. “Oh fuck. Oh fuck. Oh Christ! Goddess. Please.” He whined in utter desperation

“That’s it baby, that it. Give me everything. One more time for me now my sexy boy” She cooed, voice low and sultry. He honed in on that, the need in her voice, the euphoric sensations and it sent him up and over, wailing as his final orgasm overtook him.

He whimpered as the body wracking spasms coursed through him. “Oh Goddess” He mumbled under his breath. “Oh goddess, oh goddess, oh goddess”

“Buffy” She moaned in response. “Just Buffy now. Good boy Spike. Knew you could do it baby”

“Buffy” He choked, verging on tears, whether from the emotional intensity or the sweet pleasure pain of a combination of both, he was unsure. He was lost. Beyond lost, floating in a sea of sensory overdrive, he’d given everything for her. She let go of his abdomen, let him tug against his restraints for those ending moments. Let him thrash his hips uselessly as she let the wand massage the last of him that he could possibly give up; balls empty, prick practically numb and then he slumped in utter defeat.

The wand got turned off, the buzzing no longer white noise in his ear, though he imagined if he ever heard the sound again it would create a sort of Pavlov effect. Now he heard their harsh panting, her contented sighs and the sweet murmurs she whispered, crawling forward and curling around him best she could, her warmth covering him like a warm blanket.

“Look at how your pretty moonlit skin makes you glow against your sheets. Like the stars against the night sky. How did I end up with a man so beautiful?” She mumbled contentedly

His heart thumped wildly against his chest; hearing such kind, melodic words fall from those plush sweet lips. He wanted desperately to kiss them again, to bring her into his arms and just hold her, bury his nose in the nape of her neck and just breathe her in. But his limbs felt as thought they’d melted away or weighed a kilo, or both.

She was moving away from him, bed shifting under her weight as she got further away. He whimpered his discontent.

“Shh, shh. I’ll be right back” She soothed “Gonna get you out of these okay?” She took the first restraint off carefully, ripping the Velcro cuff away from his abraised skin. Already the tension of his muscles loosened as she removed the first of four. She immediately set her hands to the area, picking up the useless limb and turning it over for her inspection. Then her little fingers were massaging him; little soothing circles pressing into reddened flesh. She pressed gently into his carpal and out towards his lithe slender fingers, moving blood back into them and stimulating circulation. Which bless her, because he hadn’t even realized they’d gone numb. She kissed the tip of each digit, sucking the pads of his fingertips into her warm welcoming mouth.

If he knew it wouldn’t be painful to get hard again, he would have. Her lips caressed his skin all down the front and backs of his arm, working it out like she did with his hand, each little butterfly kiss sending tiny jolts of pleasure through his veins and carried them back to his heart where they settled in and made themselves cozy. As she kissed the delicate underside of his arm, he felt the overwhelming feeling of love and affection, as though she was pouring out all her feelings into him, letting them absorb into his capillaries through osmosis as a way of letting him know how she felt this way until she was ready to say it out loud.

_I hear you Buffy. Loud and clear. I know what you feel. I can wait luv. I’m patient. You can tell me with words when you’re ready to. This is all I need for now. I can hear it, can feel your love just like this._

She did this with each and every limb, taking the same amount of precious time to thoughtfully deliver the sweetest aftercare he’d ever had the pleasure of receiving. Somnolent and sated, the edges of his mind became fuzzy, threatening to take him under as he remained afloat in a sea of love and pleasure and satiety. By the time she was finished working over his left foot, focused deeply on massaging out his ankle in particular but tending to each metatarsal, working his arch, deft fingers manipulating his heels, he found himself at the edge of sleep. Christ how had he gotten so lucky? Her attentiveness, the devotion she gave his tired aching limbs, the thought she put into such a simple act was enough to have him falling. This was the bonding that he’d searched for all his life. What he was hoping for with Drusilla but never received. The care and support that Buffy offered after such a punishment. The acknowledgment of yes, she knew she went hard on him but it was just a scene, they were playing. They were loving and enjoying each other but now that was over and it was back to real life.

Things had been rubbed raw and his limbs were sore and his cock was so utterly spent that it physically hurt to think about getting hard again at least for a day or so. He was so used to getting ridiculed and degraded for something he did wrong that her gentle aiding touch made him openly weep. He couldn’t stop the tears from flowing. And she said nothing against him. She let him have his moment, just continued with her aftercare all the while whispering sweet nothings. Little soothing words. Ran teasing fingers down the length of his torso, across the planes of his stomach and up and down the length of his arms and legs. Dragging lightly she scratched at his skin, drawing thin red lines against an ivory canvas, erupting in gooseflesh that made him quiver.

“Good boy Spike. My good boy. You did so good lover. How do you feel?”

“So good” He croaked, voice thick with the intensity of her caring tone. “Christ…Buffy”

“Your wrists and ankles? How are they baby?”

“Bit raw. I’ll do luv” He cracked, crumbled under that loving gaze

“What’s the matter sweetheart?”

He shook his head, pulling in deep breaths to get himself under control enough so that he could speak. “Just so happy. Needed that. Forgotten what it’s like when it’s so good and trusting. Been so long since I wasn’t strung up and left about. Thank you. Thank you for reminding me how good it can be. For healing me”

She sighed happily “I’m here for you Spike. I’ll always be here for you. The past is in the past. It built us up and made us who we are but we’re not going to let it control us anymore. We have to move on, to look forward to the future. And we’re our future, you and I. I’ll take care of you, just as I know you’ll take care of me. Now, let’s get you out of this cage alright? You’ve worn it long enough. Where’s the key?”

“Front pocket of my trousers. ‘S the lil silver one”

She fetched it and within moments she was delicately fitting the key in the lock, his other keys jangling as she picked up his metal covered cock and manipulated it around, chuckling under her breath.

“Can’t believe you keep this on your regular key ring” She teased

“Don’t wanna lose it. ‘S so small”

“Fair”

She was efficient as she removed the padlock and it along with his minimal key ring on the bedside table. He watched with half lidded eyes as she quickly dismantled the device. She brushed against the swollen skin of his sac and despite the torture it had undergone, found himself still shivering under her touch, a small gasp escaping his lips.

“Still so reactive” She murmured, caressing him softly. “At least here” She rolled his overworked testicles; wonderstruck gaze locked onto his dangly bits of folds and skin. She had this predatory look in her eye and he remembered the intense need she felt, the fetish she had for a man’s parts as she licked her lips. If he didn’t stop her now…. _Bloody hell it’ll be too much._ He could feel himself tightening up, wincing in pain resulting from delicious pleasure.

“Mmm Buffy. Please” He whimpered, moving a hand towards her wrist. He wasn’t sure if he could handle anymore, not without whineging like a child or curling into a ball.

“Too much?” Concern lacing her voice, hands withdrawing from tender skin

“Bit, yeah”

“Sorry sweetheart. I’ll just take this off. She gently placed her hand at his pelvis then, fingertips dragging over the soft skin of his abdomen, over the arch of one prominent hip bone and into the subsequent valley that lead to the sparse patch of dark hair proximal of his groin. She scratched pleasantly there through the wiry hair, a sweet smile on her face.

“I knew you weren’t a natural blonde, not with all that peroxide, but I never would have guessed your natural color was so dark” She tittered and cocked her head regarding him with a sparkle in her eye. “I’m curious to see what you’d look like with dark hair”

He sighed in content, the rest of his body over sensitized, stinging or marred, but this gesture soothed him, comforted him. “Haven’t had dark hair in over a decade luv. Don’t plan on goin’ back, lest not for a while. Probably a photograph somewhere I can show you though” He compromised.

“I’d like that” She said with a smile.

She took hold of the cage tenderly, eyes flicking to his as if to judge whether her movements incurred him anymore discomfort. Slowly, she removed it, worked the piece of metal until the entire cage slipped off his softened member and then followed suit in a similar fashion to remove his aching balls from the restricting metal ring. She set the metal piece aside for the moment and dragged a hand towel up from bedside the bed. It looked soft. He let out a small sound of protest, despite the fluffy texture of the black cloth and her ginger kneading and wiping of his prick and balls.

“Shh honey” She whispered breezily “Just cleaning you up a bit. Your covered in yourself. I don’t want you to get sticky or uncomfortable” A faint blush rose to her cheeks. “And I know with you being uncut there’s certain hygiene things involved. And I want to make sure your piercings are all clean too” Her eyes failed to meet his, but it didn’t matter. The amount of thought and care that went into her every action tugged at his heart and made more unwanted tears rise. _Gods what a pathetic sap_ He thought to himself.

“Thank you” He muttered in response, little more than a puff of air rising from his hoarse and haggard throat. He wasn’t even sure she’d heard him. She just smiled down at him, looking at him like he was the singular thing in her world and knew she had.

When she was done she set it aside and went to do the same to the cage. A more thorough cleaning would be needed, it needed to be sanitized before the next time he put it on, but she wiped it down quickly before pausing to look at it in detail. It had been covered in bits of his fluid that still managed to have clung to it like cold jelly, and what wasn’t there had dripped down to pool and soak into the sheets below. She went about it methodically, her face flat and unchanging. It was the look of furrowed confusion, of shock in her moss green eyes that had him speak up.

“Seen one before yeah? Know you have. Something the matter?”

“Of course I’ve seen one. I’ve used them a couple times before Spike. I’ve just never seen this particular model. You mean to tell me you’ve been wearing **_this_** for the past two days? You’ve been sleeping in this?”

He followed her gaze to the spikes on the inside of the cage.

“Well yeah” He supplied blandly

Her eyes widened in disbelief as she stuck her finger in the cage and poked at the spikes with the tip of her finger

“Not sharp luv, not really. Not in the traditional sense. Just extra bits of pressure”

She didn’t seem convinced.

“I like pain luv. You know this, seen it firsthand. And while I like pain, I don’t fancy pokin’ holes in my prick. Not into that particular sect of torture. Can grip and squeeze both bits as hard as you bloody want and it’ll only make me moan harder, seen it firsthand you did. But that’s just it, ‘s pain, but it’s not sharp pain, it’s a type of pressure” He shrugged lazily, still regaining strength and feeling in limbs and torso. “I’d say it’s to help mind my thoughts, focus more so that I don’t get hard but that got royally buggered right quick when it came to thoughts of you. **_Any_ **thoughts of you”

“Spike…”

“Buffy don’t” He warned “Don’t try and put something on yourself that you don’t need to. Remember what I am yeah? What I need?”

“I do remember. Of course I do” She spoke softly, turning her gaze to look over the length of his body, the cuts and bruises that had been left in the wake of her punishment. The mottled colors that stood out against his milky skin. “But Spike—”

“—I’m good luv” He interrupted “No….scratch that. I’m bleedin’ fantastic. ‘Ve been in that soddin thing for much longer and under much worse conditions and the goods are still thoroughly intact. Despite the cruelness of my former, I wouldn’t be of much use if the goods were damaged eh? If you had seen some of the shite that the others put me through, Liam especially, well….your lucky I still have anything at all sometimes”

She still looked resistant, and vaguely horrified. One fine eyebrow arched in disbelief.

“’M okay pet, truly. This?” He gestured weakly, his arms still feeling like they were weight down with bricks. “What we did? Was perfect. Bloody perfect. What **_you_** did was sublime. Swear to Christ I wouldn’t have had it any other way. Haven’t enjoyed myself like this in such a long long time”

She looked doubtful, eyes still flashing concern, her lips pressed in a tight line, looking as though she was still ready to fight him. He picked up a weary limb and brushed what he could reach, her forearm, with the backs of his fingers.

“Don’t doubt yourself luv. This meant the world to me. Nothing about this brought up whatever memories you think I might be relieving. You’ve not traumatized me. This was therapy. Therapeutic. I needed it and you knew exactly what to do. You take such good care of me little love, and when I’m able to feel my soddin limbs again, I want to do the same for you” He whispered sweetly, softly, reciting her own words back to her.

With gentle reassuring words, those doubtful eyes softened. Hard green daggers melting into a reflecting pool of verdant light, brightened by light and joy and love. She wove her fingers with his own and brought them to her lips for a kiss.

“Love you” He murmured softly, laying back and basking in the nearness of her. She didn’t answer him, he knew she wouldn’t, but she smiled that sweet little smile and it didn’t matter. She was getting there. She pulled away and grabbed the towel she’d left at his waist.

“Lemme finish cleaning you up, then we can sleep, okay?”

“Buffy” He growled in protest “I can’t be of right mind and lie here like a lazy sod and not return what you’ve given me” He paused and dropped his voice low and rich and rumbly like he knew she liked. Knew she couldn’t resist. “You know how I feel about that”

She didn’t give in. “Shush” She spoke harshly, swatting at him. “I got just as much out of this as you did Besides, you can barely move”

“Mouth works just fine” He grinned wickedly and licked his lips “Why don’t you bring that juicy pussy of yours over here and—”

“No!” She interrupted firmly, a blush settling over her cheeks. “No” She confirmed again, this time sounding less sure. “As much as I’m tempted—”

“—Then I don’t see the problem here luv” He goaded.

She sighed

“We have time Spike. I’m not going anywhere. This doesn’t disappear after tonight. There’s no magic pumpkin rushing to take me home. No horses that become mice. No magic slipper clause. And you’re not going anywhere either right?”

“Never” He growled fiercely

“Then please. Let me do this, let me finish taking care of you and we can just spend the night together for the first time. I want to lay with you in your arms, I want to wrap myself around you. It’s been a very long time since I’ve got to cuddle with someone at night”

He stared at her, long and hard, trying to determine if there was any angle he could work, but found her resilient and he sighed in defeat.

“Yeah alright. You win Summers. I’ll keep my mouth to myself”

“What if I want a kiss?” She pouted

“You don’t tuck that lip back in right bloody now and I’ll forget everything I just agreed to. You’ll find out quickly that even an exhausted man, when desperate for what he wants, will find hidden strength if needed” He purred darkly

She flushed again, her fair skin blossoming pink and a soft gasp escaped her throat.

“I um” She stuttered “I’ll just” She busied herself with wiping the smears and streaks of blood with the damp towel. She then set to wiping his wounds and welts with antiseptic and antibacterial creams. She kept her gaze on him the entire time, the forest peering into the storm, and he loved that she couldn’t seem to stop looking at him for even a moment. When she was finished she set all the supplies aside and crawled up to the head of the bed, up his body, and draped herself around him as best she could without disturbing the worst of his wounds.

Her head rested in the crook of his neck and shoulder while a slender arm stretched out over his narrow chest. Her warmth seeped into him; calming him, sating him, making him grin with the pure pleasure of her nearness. It was like lying in the warm sun on a pleasant afternoon, soaking up all the delightful sunshine. He pressed into her as best he could and she curled into him like a cat.

“This is nice” She murmured sleepily. Seems he wasn’t the only one who was exhausted. She may have put him through the ringer, but it’d been a long day for them both

He reached for the hand at his chest, her fingertips swirling ghostly patterns at the hollow of his throat, under his clavicle, circling his nipples and the bars that bisected each one. She stopped as he touched her and he locked their fingers together, bringing them to his lips as she did moments ago before resting them over his sternum. _Christ her hands are so soft._

“Yeah it is luv, ‘S healing”

“Healing” She repeated lazily and he felt the smile against his throat as she peppered another kiss there. “Yeah, that’s what this is”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As we put a close on this one, I wish to announce that I am working on another title. I have a few chapters in the early stages of the writing process but by no means necessary will it be ready, especially when I'm working on it at a snails pace in the few moments I have between work, sleep and my Master's program that ends in three weeks. As I mentioned before, I don't usually write multiple chapter fics, but I love this community and I've really fallen in love with writing again that I intend to see this one through! 
> 
> I surprisingly have no quotes or music used for this chapter (as the entirety of this chapter was dedicated to kinky fun. Tho I intend to add more music to the playlist in the creation of my new story (whenever the hell that happens)  
> The link to the playlist is here if anyone wants to get into my headspace when I write!  
> https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0lsTOpRK3wEyymeaRRPffj?si=ZY4JNhdxQ_KkI7oiimEkzA
> 
> Thank you all! Keep writing everyone! Long live Spuffy.


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